I was never a nerd. Never needed glasses, never used a pocket protector, or showed up to school sporting the absolutely terribly wrong what-was-she-thinking look.
A required blue plaid school uniform saved me a lot of emotional trauma.
Or so I thought.
Then I checked out the latest fashion spread in WWD called Nerd Chic. A couple of the girls -- models are, inevitably, girls -- are pictured in little blazers and short skirts. Their clothes look, um, familiar. I glance in the mirror. Uh-oh. The models look, of course, absolutely adorable. Their nerdiness seems confined to awkward posture.
The copy reads in part: "Once upon a time, preppy classics like blazers, nauticals and crisp cottons were in a deep sleep. But with a dash of naughty secretary and an enchanted garden to boot, the fashion fairy tale comes to life."
WWD seems to be saying that if a nerd and a naughty secretary get together in a fancy garden, the result, presumably after some gestational period, is a fairy.
I type 95 words per minute, can file and have, on occasion, behaved in a manner that could be construed as naughty. Also, as first mentioned, I have no awareness of being nerdy which I think means I am profoundly nerdy.
I'm working on the posture. Pigeon-toed is the 2010 strut.