Point taken.

A WWPD reader reminds me, via email, that I did in fact have a "girl-crush." Actually, two of them. There were these two female grad students at UChicago whose style I was obsessed with, and whom I referred to as the "fashion girls." I don't know their names or much about them, other than that I guess they studied in the same places I did. They were inseparable and equally fashionable. One had short, stick-straight black hair, and the other long, wavy, platinum blond hair. Both were tall-ish and slim, not models, but model-ish enough to look model-fabulous in their outfits, all of which were, well, fabulous. The look was sort of European, but sort of American hipster, and also a bit classic/minimalist. I can't describe what they wore. If I could explain it, I'd wear it.

I really wanted to see where they shopped (Milan? Paris? Neiman Marcus?), but as a lowly undergrad I didn't think they'd want to take me along.

What most impressed me was that their put-together, cutting-edge looks carried over throughout the seasons, which in Chicago is most impressive. They didn't try ridiculous things like stiletto mules in January, as might a more typical, misguided, fashion-conscious U of Cer. On certain days I thought I was looking kind of chic, and they'd pass by, and I'd secretly hope they'd notice, but I'm almost certain they never did. (My hot-pink leg warmers from American Apparel were not, in retrospect, the height of chic).

So is that a girl-crush? I admired the way these two women put themselves together and I wanted to look a bit more like them than I did on a typical day. I wouldn't so much say I wanted friendship from them, just a shopping trip or two, sort of a "What Not To Wear" minus the cameras. So what can I say? Point taken.