Belt it Out

Because of renewed dedication to looking like a decent human being most of the time, I have found myself trying to spice up my wardrobe with accessories. This includes belts. For the vast majority of my life (well, ok, up until about a month ago), belts were "them things what keeps your pants up." I would have one or two belts in my collection, usually brown or black and pretty nondescript. In fact, for a very long time, I purchased these reversible brown on one side/black on the other belts at Target and used those. And they were for keeping the pants up. Nothing more.

However, now I want to do more with them. I purchased a sparkly one to update my black dresses with at Christmas, and liked it ok, although I felt that it sometimes made me look lumpier. This, of course, had nothing to do with the fact that I had gained 15 pounds because of living on a diet of basically nothing but butter and sugar. No, nothing to do with that. Totally the belt's fault. I have since worn it a few times with black pants or with my black pencil skirt. Nothing major, just a bit of eye candy.

This weekend, however, I purchased two more belts with this grand idea to belt everything. I got a nice, wide brown bohemian looking thing and a skinny pink belt that I see myself rocking with brightly colored pencils in the spring. I was most jazzed about the brown belt because I could mostly see it with the dress I also purchased. I also thought I would use it to jazz up my longer cardigans for the end of winter/early spring. But then, I realized. I wear mostly black. A dark brown belt cannot be used with black pants, amirite? So, BELT FAIL. Well, I guess not totally a fail. I can wear it with that dress. And I'm pretty sure I'll acquire a few more garments between now and WHEN I DIE that can appropriately be paired with a boho looking brown belt.

So this morning I tried the skinny sparkly belt over my long v-neck cardi from Loft (I am basically wearing this with a black pencil skirt, tights, and heeled Mary Janes). It looked, in a word, awful. Kind of lumpy and dumpy and just not quite right. I took it off, of course. Now, after looking through a bunch of "belt over cardigan" Google images, I realize that maybe I should have left my cardigan unbuttoned (like Michelle, above). Or that the problem may lie in my pencil skirt, which has now become a tinge too big in the waist (prime belting area).

Whatever the case is, however, I just don't know if I'm a "belter." I want to be, my goodness do I want to be, but for some reason, I'm just not doing it right. Perhaps I was born this way. Perhaps my parents received a card when I was born that said, "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DO NOT PUT A BELT ON THIS KID" and I was never told about it. Or, perhaps I am not really putting enough effort into this whole thing and am getting discouraged and sad with myself for something silly.

So what say you? Are you a "belter?" Can you teach me? Can we be best friends? I will show you how to bake bread and apply liquid eyeliner if you're into that kind of thing. Or I could tutor your kid for the SAT. Tit for tat, you know. Or is an unteachable skill and I will die someday, cold and alone, and my tombstone will read, "Here lies Morgan. She was pretty narcissistic and she couldn't belt a cardigan. What a bitch."

I apologize for the title. I'm pretty sure that if you googled (and I'm much, much too lazy to actually do this) you would find about 756 fashion blog posts where someone has belted something and now wants you to see. And they would probably be standing in a field, throwing leaves over their head, standing pigeon toed and looking forlorn. Which brings me to my next point: Why are you reading this anyway when you could be looking at that?