A text beeps on my phone, ‘I’m downstairs’ it says but here I am, standing in front of my straighteners with still frizzy hair and I haven’t even ironed my outfit yet, somehow there is lipstick on my nose. The kettle is still boiling because I’ve not even had my morning coffee, I forgot because I’m in a frenzy. So is biba, she’s circling the apartment like someone in an insane asylum because I’m late and she’s eager to get out. And so I hurry, which is faithfully how I always get dressed. I’ll toss clothes into tornados that land all over, from the floor to the chair over there; bras hanging out of drawers, lonely odd shoes deserted in corners. This is the problem with having so many clothes, I’ll probably sigh. I’ll stop for a few seconds between haphazardly straightening my hair to toss some coffee in the press, it will go cold because I’ll leave it there, forgetting entirely as I run out the door. Getting dressed is a wardrobe rush, and I could blame my lack of organization or that I tend to always be late, but the truth is, dedicating too much time to getting ready really stresses me. I prefer the pressure, rushing through the choices in my closet, picking a blazer and a blouse in under 20 seconds is how I get dressed. I believe spending too much time looking in the mirror is bad for the soul and should I spend too long in front of my reflection, I inevitably become sad. I think we all do. And so while I love clothes, I style my outfits like a sprint. Sure, sometimes what I’m wearing is wrinkled and my hair is almost messy, not quite but never perfect looking but perfection is impossible so why bother anyway? The city is right outside my closet and with it, friends, coffees, sunshine, meetings, a boyfriend on a vespa…why stick around and agonize about off white versus cream or smoothing out wrinkles no one but me will see? I say spend a little less time and start styling with more speed.