You guys, I think I’m getting the hang of posing like a fashion blogger. The trick is finding a completely abandoned alley, putting an extra espresso shot in your coffee (thank you Joe’s, for being located conveniently at the corner of said abandoned alley), and finding something useful to do with your hands. This time around, I channeled myself, 20 years ago, after being told I couldn’t have a new American Girl doll, and employed an overabundance of hip-jutting and arm-crossing. While I never did get that doll (thanks, Mom, for making me a complete outcast at Jenna’s sleepover party because you thought American Girl dolls didn’t celebrate diversity by failing to include a Russian or at least slightly Eastern European doll–and yes, I am aware that there is now a not only Russian but also Jewish(!) American Girl doll that could have changed the course of my childhood completely. I’m looking at you, Rebecca Rubin), I think five-year-old Nikki would have definitely wanted to hang out with me.

For outfit credits and a sentence that uses both the words “boobs” and “pee” (we meet again, five-year-old Nikki!), scroll down.

• Sunglasses: Chloé (old, shop similar)
• Scarf: Zara
• Sweatshirt: H&M (buy it)
• Skirt: H&M (shop similar)
• Purse: Salvatore Ferragamo (mine is vintage alligator that I acquired via auction, but similar available online in black or gold)
• Booties: Madison Harding (buy em for 45% off!)
• Tights: Spanx (buy em. No, seriously, buy em. Spanx makes the best tights I have purchased. They’re perfectly opaque, never tear, have a fantastic control top–although I must note they sit directly under my boobs, making me feel a bit like a well-dressed sausage–and best of all, have a slit that allows the coordinated urinator to go to the bathroom without even taking them off. I must also note that I’d advise against actually attempting this trick unless you’re fairly sure of your coordination, unless you don’t mind smelling a bit like urine for the remainder of date night. Also, told you so.)