Lose the Lilac Leather

I am always happy to admit when an element (or two, or three) doesn't work in an outfit. 

This leather top...has to go. Arg, I look like I'm wearing crumpled wrapping paper.

• Top - made in Israel, vintage 80s, thrifted; first worn here with a full bottom in November 2015 
• Pants - Talbots, thrifted; last seen here in November 2015 with an all-black ensemble
• Shoes - Half Truth Veda, Fluevog; last worn here just last Friday with a load o' dots

I realized the top had to go the second I saw these pictures in the morning. Unfortunately, I don't have time to mess around in the closet putting together another outfit. "I'm stuck with this," I grumbled to Vizzini. 

The pants got plenty of comments - they are a sweet lock and key pattern in a wool/silk blend, fully lined, and just a pleasure to wear. Now, if they only had pockets.

Seriously, I want pockets! Put pockets in women's clothing!

The stuff:

I had to pick a basic black flat shoe in the capsule - for me, it's a total wardrobe essential. These are the 3rd or 4th pair of black pointy-toe kitten heels I've owned in the last 10 years (I am brutal on my shoes). I'm sure I'll own another pair in the next few years, when I wear these ones out.

• Necklace - gift from L 
• Earrings - Glee

I also didn't like the necklace, sorry, L! It rolls around and doesn't lay flat and ended up being really annoying.

Since I wore a lilac leather jacket today as my outerwear, I had the brief thought that I could have shucked the leather baggy top and just worn my camisole with the leather jacket open, with the cuffs flipped back. What do you think?

"I think you look like someone who wants to feed me, woman."

Yeah, me neither. The pants are really high-waisted and give me that big bubble stomach (which I don't have, dammit, pants!). I also don't believe in camisoles as actual clothing (much as I don't like leggings as pants). However, it probably would have been better. Ah well, live and learn. Tomorrow is another outfit.

I always have to check around the house before I leave for work to make sure Vizzini hasn't gotten into my closet (or any closet). This morning, I spotted him peeking at me in an unexpected place.

"I'm going to bust open your closet the minute you leave and eat your shoes."

He never sits on this chair! We had been cuddling there earlier (I pet him, he rolls around on me, whuffling noisily - this is how he purrs).

"I call this the Cuddle Chair. Come here and give me some lovin'."

Such a cute little monster, isn't he?