A Week of LuLaRoe

If you have more than 12 friends on Facebook, you've probably heard of LuLaRoe.  I like to think I'm not a follower, but when I kick off my Toms and ask one of the kids to bring me my Vera Bradley purse so I can roll some essential oils on myself before I head into the kitchen to throw dinner in the Instant Pot, it occurs to me that I may be more of a lemming than I think.

Last year, a friend of mine became a consultant for LuLaRoe.  I placed an order with her to show my support of her new business.

It was like stepping off a cliff.

Now, I'm no psychiatrist, but I would not be surprised to be labeled with an addictive personality.  One of the reasons adoptions are hard for us is because I spend the wait year totally obsessing.  Paperwork, wondering what is our future child doing right now, reading adoption blogs, joining adoption groups... it's emotional quicksand.

So when I get pointed in a new direction, I have a tendency to go a little overboard.  The LuLaRoe groups on Facebook feed the obsessive climate by only offering items for sale at certain times, and emphasizing that each print is limited edition, so if you don't buy it NOW, you may never get the chance again.

Let's just say, I've had more than a few squishy packages arrive for me recently.  I decided to turn my obsession into a blog post, so you guys can laugh along with me at my silliness.  There are affiliate links within this post, which may someday generate enough income to earn me a whole pair of leggings.

The first things I ordered were a shirt and a Carly dress.  When I saw it on screen, the Carly dress appeared to be a solid gray color, but when it arrived, it was actually a heathered olive.

The Carly dress is an A shaped t-shirt dress.  It's pretty shapeless, which I love.  I spend a lot of time at home, and I like to be comfy.  But when I leave the house, I don't want to look like a frump, so I found a sash that comes in a whole bunch of different colors, including olive.  Some Kohl's cash turned into an olive cardigan to complete the ensemble.

Lu La Roe is most known for it's leggings.  I don't generally wear leggings very often, but they were talked up so much, I figured I had to give them a try.

This Carly dress really is gray, and the orchid pink leggings were my first pair of LLR leggings.  This was a "staying home" day, so I didn't bother with a sash, but I did wear pink earrings and 10 tiny strands of pink seed beads similar to this, along with my gray Toms to tie the whole thing together a bit.  Yes, the leggings are soft and comfy, but I didn't quite understand the obsession people seem to have with them.

This is the Randy shirt.  The sleeves are blue and tan stripes.  I actually got compliments the day I wore this.  I lost 35 pounds between June and November last year, and I've been having a hard time figuring out what sizes I am now.  I think wearing something that wasn't baggy helped emphasize my new, smaller shape.

LLR has 3 styles of basic T-shirt.  The Classic T is probably what you think of when you think t-shirt, only a little longer, a little more scoop to the neck, and with a tail in back to cover your... assets.  Or liabilities, as the case may be.  Because the peeps at LLR believe "leggings are pants."  Personally, I'm firmly in the Jen Hatmaker camp on leggings not being pants (if you haven't seen the video, it makes me chuckle), but you can't say something like that in a LLR Facebook group.  Those ladies take their leggings very seriously.  Even if they're covered in light bulbs, kitty cats, or popcorn containers.  So, as you can see in the photo above, the bottom of my Classic T is bunched up by having my hands in my back pockets.

I started with the size I thought I wore, but when I got that Classic T, it pulled across "the girls."  So I went up a size, and I'm more comfortable with this.  Except that I don't like the size on the tag.  But that's my issue, I suppose.

Awkward photo courtesy of dashing out the door teenager.  This is the Perfect T.  According to LLR, that is.  Personally, I'm not as crazy about it.  It's sized much bigger, so I can wear the size that makes me happy (or, in theory, go down a size, which freaks me out a little--like I said, I have issues).  And the sleeves are longer.  What's up with that?  Anyway, Perfect runs all around larger than Classic.  In this picture, I've paired my purple Perfect with purple Toms and a gray maxi skirt.  (The 3rd shirt is the Irma, which I won't buy.  Imaging someone taking a big square and tacking little elbow length sleeves on it.  Just no.)

Remember how, I didn't really get the whole legging obsession?  I mean, sure, they're comfy, but it's just clothes, you know?  And then I saw them.  Origami cranes leggings.  And I had to have them.

Because when we went to China and adopted Hannah, my dear friends Heather and Sarah collected 1000 paper cranes representing good wishes for her from friends across the country, and hung them up in our front room to welcome us home.

Every time I wear my crane leggings, shown here with a black sash and black Toms, I smile and think how touched I was when I walked in the door and saw all those cranes.  That's when I grasped the idea that leggings can make you happy.

Chinese New Year is upon us, and when I saw the lantern leggings, I thought they would be perfect with a red Carly for comfy CNY celebrations.

And this outfit goes with one of my favorite Flexi Clips, the fans.

LuLaRoe is a cutesy company, and they train their consultants never to say anything negative.  We should put LLR in charge of Facebook for a while, am I right?  Anyway, their clothing labels?  They bug me.  Not the actual tags, chaffing against my skin.  The writing on the label is meant to be cutesy, but it annoys me.

Machine Wash Cold

Gentle Cycle

Do Not Bleach

Hang Dry

or you'll be sad

Seriously?  I don't like to be told what to do, think, or feel, and cutesy or not, this sounds vaguely menacing to me.  Kind of like the "you'll be sorry!" that a bully would taunt.  On the other hand, if I'm going to pay a silly price for these t-shirt dresses I can't stop buying, I want them to last.  I'm not going to toss them in the dryer just to rebel against the tag.  

So I have a magnet in my laundry room.  And when I put LLR in the washer, I put the magnet on the lid.  That way, when I change loads, I can keep an eye out for the LLR and make sure it doesn't go in the dryer.

If you hang out in these Facebook groups that LuLaRoe consultants set up, you start seeing different ways to tie your garments.  I got this from a YouTube video.  It shortens up the Carly dress considerably, making it more of a tunic.

I accessorized my light blue Carly with a Laurel Burch scarf that I got from Zulily, kept in place with a mini dragonfly Flexi Clip in gold, and gold hoop earrings.

And this bit of goofiness just shows what happens when I'm telling my teen, "I want my head in the picture and my toes in the picture, okay?"

If you're new to LLR, and you just want to stick your toe in the water and see what it's all about, join my friend's Facebook group.  If you already belong to 15 Facebook groups (including my friend's group!) and you want to take things to the next level of crazy, do a search on Facebook for LuLaRoe going out of business.  Consultants do leave the flock, and you can sometimes get some great deals that way.

Which is why I have more squishy packages headed my direction.  I need to stop.  I know I need to stop.  Right after another friend's local house party later this month.

This post may be linked up at these linky parties.