It all started with a laundry basket... and granny boots.


Growing up I had two different colored laundry baskets, they were both for “dirty” clothes. The white one was for dirty clothing that actually needed washing, then there was the pink one that was for all the other clothes I had put on that day for my own personal amusement. Some may call this playing dress up, but I wasn’t wearing princess costumes or pretending to be somebody else, I was wearing fully styled outfits and just being Biddy. My stylist heart started beating at a young age, so as you can imagine the pink basket was constantly full. I had an outfit for everything. I probably even had outfits for picking out outfits. It was a head to toe affair and I needn’t an event for a full fashion show. If my parents had friends over for dinner you could bet your ass it was like NYFW at Boulder Creek Drive. I would’ve greeted them in green velvet leggings, an oversized sweater with a belt (most likely one of my older sisters), and granny boots. By the time wine hit their glass I was back in a leotard, corduroy pants, a fur or leather jacket of my moms, and of course, granny boots. This would continue throughout the evening until I was told it was time to put on my pajamas and go to bed, but not without strutting my footies through the living room before I went to snooze. You may not be able to focus since the mention of granny boots, I don’t blame you. I was obsessed. Stephanie Priem was a gal in the grade above me, we would have play dates and I had major shoe envy over the pair she had. I remember ordering them from a catalog and that once they arrived never really taking them off. I even went to the extent of wearing granny boots to Disney World in 1992. “Nice boots, Bridget” is a running joke in my family as it’s what the ride attendant said to me when I boarded the boat for the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. He knew my name because of the amount of times somebody in my family had to yell at me during the 30 minute wait for the ride. More on this later…
Not much has changed since 1992, I still choose the most stylish yet least logical footwear for nearly all occasions, and I still have more clothes in the pink basket (aka on my bedroom floor) than actually worn dirty clothing. So whenever you beg to ask the question “What Would Biddy Do?” keep in mind I have years of extensive research under my Gucci belt. #rippinkbasket