Sleevey Situations //

SORRY ABOUT MY SOAP BOX ON TUESDAY, I JUST HAVE SOME STUFF TO SORT THROUGH. 

Something not so serious as all the growing up and difficult issues in life: Sleeves. I am constantly pinning gorgeous sleeves! And no one can stop me! No, lady, staring at my bodaciously covered upper arms - not even you. It's like a timeless statement of "I know what the heck fashion is". I mean, I am daydreaming of them. The different shapes, textures, prints- and they way they so gracefully fall- or keep their structure! Sure, my husband doesn't understand the St. John blouse with its frighteningly 80's-esque bubble sleeves I just purchased at a consignment store...but they are so elegant, bold, and sexy. So different. So unique. Ok, Ok. Yes, of course, this has been done before. Fashion repeats itself. It's hard to be original. I can picture Shakespeare's bubble sleeves and that one Napolean Dynamite dance scene..."I like your sleeves". 

If that was the only compliment someone gave me on a rockin', sleevey day, well heck, I would grin from sleeve to sleeve.