Fast forward to present day, and you'll find my mother teasing me over my current fixation -- wearing a "dress" over jeans. Lest you think I'm parading around in a mid-calf skimming frock over my jeans, you could also consider it "tunic" over jeans.
The roots of the obsession are two-fold: First there's the issue of scandalously short scraps of fabric masquerading as dresses (I'm a mom, in my 30's, and I unfortunately don't possess Gwyneth's legs, so I have to have some limits here people.) Then there was the serendipitous side-effect of an otherwise scarring shopping trip with Audrey where I was in such a rush to get out Barneys that I tried on a Vena Cava dress over my jeans and was instantly hooked.

But no matter what's behind my motivation for repetition, an unintended (but welcome) side-effect is the simplicity factor -- the non-thinking aspect of having a uniform to rely on trumps all that ribbing from my mom...almost.