Every year around this time, I get an itch. Maybe it's my wooly sweaters, but more than likely it's an itch for spring. Every year, there's a morning when I wake up, get out of bed, ponder what to wear, take a step back from my closet and decide I'm done with jeans + boots + sweaters. I throw caution to the wind, lose the tights, and maybe some of my dignity, too (kidding). Luckily, this ladylike oozes sophistication, even if I'm feeling a little frazzled and haphazard myself.