Am I a hypocrite?

I love patterned tights, but not on Paris Hilton, for some reason I haven't figured out. I mean, it's good that she's trying to dress halfway decently, right? Why am I so annoyed with her demure fashion-forwardness?



Well, houndstooth-on-houndstooth is a pretty good reason. I mean, there's not-leaving-your-house-for-3-days-except-to-go-to-the-library too much of a good thing and then there's houndstooth-on-houndstooth too much of a good thing. One of which I'm actually living, and I don't think mind-boggling graphic patterns from head to toe is quite the existence I want to lead right now.

And these tights closely resemble tourniquets, or something snagged at the last minute from the Hustler store clearance rack:



But even this look, which I would love on anyone else in the world, grates my nerves, and makes me grind my still-painful teeth:



I mean, the dress is adorable, and the tights are unexpected (one of my favorite style terms, I know). But why Paris, of all people?

I must consider this while I leisurely sip my too-strong hazelnut coffee and half-pay attention to The Year of Living Biblically.

Is it that I am such a creature of habit that I don't even like my celebrities to change? I went backpacking in Red River Gorge, though, for Godssake. Creatures of habit don't sleep on cliffs and break their veg and not bathe for four days, right? Though I admit I loved every minute of putting on my roommates pajamas after a hot shower and lying on the couch watching Walk the Line.

Hmm.

(Oh yeah, and my mom got really mad because my first--and hopefully only--credit card bill came in the mail today. She said, "that thing better only be for emergencies!" I mean, winning Cheap Monday jeans on eBay is an emergency! )