Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Back-ENDED Compliments

I've never really been one for fashion. (I know you're totally shocked, right? What with the men's jammie pants and argyle sock obsession... hey I'm not just a fashion queen, I'm a fashion GODDESS.../snicker)

When I do actually manage to get dressed it's usually in jeans and some kind of snarky tee shirt, most of which are rife with oddball things...ninjas...zombies...carnivorous bunnies...whatever. It's all good. Throw on a pair of converse sneakers in whatever color, and I'm done. You might say my look is rather casual. Some might say that I missed the fashion bus ages ago. It's probably safer to say that it ran me over and backed up a few times, but I digress...

I accepted my total lack of fashion sense years ago, but every now and then I do manage to get something right. Sometimes the earth turns, the planets align, the heavens smile down upon me, and I look pretty good, yo! Saturday night was just such an occasion. Dave and I were going to the adult-only session of Conference. I hadn't planned on what to wear- just grabbed something and threw it on. I ended up in a black knit fitted long-sleeved top, charcoal gray knee-length pencil skirt, fishnet stockings and 3 1/2 inch black come-hither heels. It was a complete and total accident, but with my curls cooperating and red lipstick in the mix, it was one happy accident. The look on Dave's jaw as it lay on the floor was enough to tell me I did good. I left the house with a little spring in my step and maybe a little more swing than necessary in my hips.

We left a little early so my Sugar Daddy could buy me the new Iphone 5. Walking into the Verizon store was fun. I even found a dollar in the parking lot. I felt like I'd gotten a tip when I bent down to pick it up. The store was jam packed with men; customers and employees both--and all eyes were instantly on little ole me. Usually that kind of thing freaks me out, but that night it felt pretty first. Pregnancy changes you inside and out. I have 3 kids. It was nice to feel like I could still turn a head, but there does come a point when you're ready to be relegated back into the obscurity that somewhat chunky girls tend to live in. I'm generally pretty comfy there, and as good (for me) as I looked that night- a super model I am not, and this was getting downright weird.

It took a while as it always does, and I became more and more uncomfortable. After I finally got my sweet little phone all set up and paid for, we headed for the door, still the center of attention. I was halfway through it when a woman behind me finally decided to let me in on the big secret. The zipper in my new my skirt had broken, separated down the middle, and the whole universe could see everything. E-VER-Y-THING. And she proclaimed it loud enough for at at least 2/3rds of the country to hear. (Okay, probably not, but it sure felt that way.) I sorta stood there as realization hit. I could feel the burn as the blush traveled up my body from my sassy shoes to my stocking-ed knees.. up what remained of my skirt, shirt, past my cherry red lips down to the very ringlets of my hair. Then I turned my very exposed tail and virtually fled to Dave's car.

Needless to say we didn't make it to Conference. Getting in the house was fun too, as our neighbors never seem to go inside ever. I don't know if it was when I struggled to get out of his car in my heels or if it was when I bent to pick up that dollar, or if it was at some point in the store. What I do know is that pride goeth before the fall.

Touche, Thumb. Or should I say... tushie?