Let me guess. Somewhere along the way, someone told you that because your skin is fair, you must be cool-toned. Or that because your eyes are green, you must be warm. Or (my personal favorite) that you're a Summer in May and an Autumn by Labor Day because you spent July at the lake.

My friend, I have heard them all. And they simply do not hold up against science. Here’s why.

If you've spent more than five minutes in the style corners of the internet, you've probably noticed there are two camps.

And they do not sit together at lunch.

On one side, you've got the system people. Kibbe essence IDs, House of Colour style analysis, Kitchener, 4- 12- 16- 21-type color seasons, body-type charts, the whole alphabet soup. On the other side, you've got the "wear what you want" people: dopamine dressing, rules are for breaking, if it makes you happy, wear it! Put it on and walk out the door!

And then there's you. Standing in the middle of the cafeteria holding your tray, wondering why nothing in your closet feels like you, and which table is going to judge you less.

Let me save you some time, my friend.

You don't have to pick a side.

Let's talk about your shopping dread.

As soon as you realize you need to go shopping, you’re dreading it. Before you even walk through the mall doors, you’re anxious. You probably head straight for the sale rack, find the least offensive things to try on, and buy whatever fits for as little money as possible.

You've probably chalked all of that up to being busy. Or frugal. Or "just not a shopping person."

Here's what I think is actually going on.

I've been married for 16 years. My sweet angel husband, Erik, is a fastidious person. He tidies, vacuums, wipes counters, and more - daily. I on the other hand, am…not this way. I leave empty Diet Coke cans around the house, leave my dirty laundry on the bathroom floor, and often let trash pile up in the car. 

I like to think I keep things interesting. You’d have to confirm this with him.

This brings us to one of our first big disagreements, early on in our marriage. And it was all about a box of toothpaste on the stairs.