Help Me! I Am Low Design.

This week, I'm heading to Salt Lake City to moderate a panel on ad networks at Alt Summit. Alt Summit is a conference for design and lifestyle bloggers. That would be the people who understand how to tie a scarf and write beautiful blogs with stunning photography highlighting one-of-a-kind wooden rings hand carved by sage old men living on mountaintops.

While I feel pretty decent about my ability to discuss ad networks, I feel pretty intimidated about my personal style. I am not the type to obsess about what to wear, either. Years of working in corporate America has bestowed upon me plenty of pairs of black pants and acceptable cardigans. I've spoken on panels before and spent exactly two nanoseconds deciding what to wear. Usually it was something that would easily accommodate a clip-on microphone. And black pants. And a shirt that wouldn't show my nervous underarm perspiration. I live in fear of my nervous underarm perspiration. Kiss my ass, clinical-strength deodorant, you don't work.

But this conference. Oy. This one has thrown me for a loop. Do I wear what I always wear and at least look authentic, or do I try a little harder? (Trying a little harder for me usually means accessorizing as opposed to rosettes and purple tights, just to draw the line.) Yesterday I peeked into my closet and tried to figure out if I could work in my Kohl's deep discount knee-high gray slouchy boots that are so cute and totally remind me of 1982 but that I bought without having anything with which to wear them. And I sort of glanced through all the incredible bracelets I inherited from Gran, who loved labeling her jewelry with time and location of purchase. And then I looked at my hair and wondered if it is short-cute or mom-cute and all this thinking about my appearance started making me hyperventilate so I had to go videotape the little angel and her friend making the world's best Barbie movie, or at least arguing over set construction for fifteen minutes before giving up.

I can't believe I'm worrying about this. But I'm sort of worrying about this. WTF?