|Old Navy sweater; thrifted Gap gingham shirt; Gap Outlet shorts; We Love Colors tights; thrifted vintage Cole Haan boots; thrifted vintage satchel|
When I was younger, my arch nemesis was math. I hated math. I moaned and groaned through lessons at school. I procrastinated on my homework. I flunked tests in a tragically magnificent manner, earning single-digit scores that led to painful conferences between my parents and teachers. It became kind of a family joke, Elissa and her math problems. Eventually my parents found before and after-school tutors, and I spent long, long, long hours sitting through private instruction, watching the clock tick depressingly towards oblivion.
The worst thing about my math disability wasn't my failing grades. No, the worst thing was the hope and optimism I felt before each test, only to discover that I'd flunked. One particularly tragic exam from my junior year comes to mind. I was absolutely convinced I'd not only passed that midterm, but aced it. Finally I had conquered my math demon. My parents could stop shelling out money on tutors and spend it on something useful, like a pony. Schoolmates would line up at my door, begging me for the secret formula to my math genius. My cousins would stop making fun of me for my inability to calculate fourth-grade fractions. I had made it.
If memory serves me correctly, my grade on that exam hovered in the forties.
I feel that today's shorts and tights outfit strikes a similar chord. When I got dressed this morning, I was sure I'd nailed this look. I carefully studied images on Pinterest with women in shorts and tights, and took inspiration from their denim and boots. I waltzed out of my house with a confident strut. Now, I'm not so convinced. And if a quadratic equation exists that can solve the problem, I'm beyond hope.