Ode to Amy

I don't know who exactly made Amy my fashion police, but it is a job she took on at a very early age. One look from her would send me back to my closet.

There was a time I was not allowed to go shopping without her. I think the conversation started out something like,"Next time you go shopping mom, I need to go with you." And if on occasion, I would sneak out by myself, I always had her voice in my head as I tried things on. I knew I would have to answer to her when I got home. We didn't always agree, but I know for a fact she saved me from a major fashion nightmare, multiple times.

My most favorite pair of shoes of ALL time came from a shopping trip with Amy. She noticed them on the rack and demanded I try them. They didn't look very interesting to me, but I tried them on anyway. HOW DID SHE KNOW!? Invariable, the times Amy has "dressed" me, or I'm wearing some of her stuff, people notice.

Over the years, I've come to depend on it. Even now, all's it takes is a look, or a comment or even an unspoken energy from her and I realize that I need to tweek the outfit. And she's always right. I'm sure I rarely hit the top ranks of fashon, but without Amy's vigilant eye, I would regularly be quite the embarrassment.

So the other day at work, a group of girls were talking about hair fashion and the current trends. Out of the blue, one of them turned to me and said, " You know, Kathy, you can't wear scrunchies anymore." "Of course!" I replied confidently, "Those are so outdated." (Amy already told me).