You know you're in for a long day when you start daydreaming about dinner at 8am. Then my day got even longer when I discovered the return of my arch enemy (think Serena can der Woodsen when she discovered Georgina was coming back to town) Uggs. Now I will fully admit, like every other preteen girl that fancied herself a Lauren Conrad in a world of Kristen Cavalari's, I was captivated by they're laidback surfer/ California chic esthetic, and sinfully warm interior. I fully remember them being catapulted into the spotlight when Ally Hilfiger opted to wear them to her Upper East Side high school graduation (Rich Girls, YouTube it). And like every other pod person, I waited patiently as my pale pink (gag) and chestnut brown pairs made their maiden voyage from Australia. They're warm and comfortable, I know, I get it, but so are snuggies and you don't see me wear that to Sushi Samba. There are articles of clothing that are for utility that have no place in fashion. I will totally own up to the fact that I will throw them on when there's a polar vortex outside, or with yoga pants to run errands (because, let's be really what else can you wear with yoga pants). But other than that, they should be ceremoniously burned.
Not according to Vogue. If you've check in with the fashion gospel lately you'd know that they predict Uggs are making a come back. And everyone knows that what Anna Wintour says, goes.
So from now on I plan on wearing oversized, tortouisshell sunglasses for 95% of the day to hide all of the side eye that I'll be giving to people who insist on assaulting my vision by wearing them.