I had dinner with Stylish Emily last night and a couple of other pals from my years as a Camp Foley counselor. It was a blast catching up with these friends. It's a cliche about camp, but totally true in this case, that even if you haven't seen each other for years, you can just go right back to complete familiarity. Anne and Cara, who rounded out our foursome, are both successful and also stylish.

The good news for me is that Emily has been pondering the personal shopping that she agreed to do for me.

"Kace," she said on the way into the restaurant, "here's what we'll do. Day One is a jeans shop. That's our priority, and also a couple of tops. So, Banana, Gap, maybe Ann Taylor. Not too much, so we don't get overwhelmed."

"Ok," I said, "I love that you have a plan."

"And then Day TWO, and this is where you can really hit the mother lode, we'll do the Salvation Army."

"Ok," I said. Really, I have to agree to everything she says. My situation is obviously that dire.

"Now they don't have dressing rooms, so you need to wear a tank-top," she began. "Well, I mean, you need your BRA, and then a tank top, then a shirt and a zip-up thing." She did a pantomime here to make sure I understood the concept of a hoodie. And I love that she really thought I might leave the house without undergarments. It's kind of like the time she asked me if I owned any brushes.

Once during dinner, I had to leave the table to check for Cara, who was running late, and I am happy to report that Emily checked me out as I walked away and was nice enough to remark that the jeans I was wearing were much better than the ones I wore for our last visit.

"Your butt isn't even saggy!" she said encouragingly. I knew she'd be pleased.