I've given in, you see. I mean, I'll always love stripes with all my tender heart, but there's a corner of me somewhere that will probably always have a soft spot for polka dots. This has certainly been their year, at least in my book.
I tried not to take this one home with me. It isn't even really the correct size (I can fudge it because the hips are free and the waist works, thought it pulls a little at the buttons up the front. Thankfully, the bow hides this fact), but I did the wrong thing: I tried it on. I love every little thing a bit too easily, the stupidest little things even, so I didn't stand a chance against this one.
It's not even the only thing I've purchased in the last week to be be-spotted! The other was a pair of tights, but in my defense both pairs of polka-dot tights from last year are either ripped to shreds or lost down the same rabbit hole where That One Sock and Remember Your Favorite T-Shirt Because Where is It live.
I've stopped trying to be logical about it all. Eventually I guess I'll get sick of dots and move on to something else, or back to stripes, and be so sick of the sight of them that I'll renounce the whole trend. It's not something I can really see happening, but, you know. It's like how I don't eat cheesecake because I once, when I was 13 or 14, ate an entire one while sitting in front of the computer (habits, habits) and now the thought of them make my stomach cringe.
But at least this frock isn't the same colors as all the others I've accumulated since the spring.