Monday, February 12, 2018
Today I am grateful for sartorial splendor. Sometimes when I’m in a space with a lot of people and I see someone wearing a, let’s say, “questionable” outfit, I say to whomever I’m with, “That’s an interesting choice.” I figure I’m not being judgmental or mean with that statement, just observant. That’s my story.
Then there are the times when I am the story, the one making an interesting choice. And there are many. Usually it’s in extreme weather, hot or cold, one way or the other. A while back, when I was in full mental-pause, we went to an outdoor music festival where the temperature was 101 degrees. . .at night! We were invited to a hospitality event because of the job I was working at the time and I had a glass of wine in the air conditioning. One glass. It was free. That’s usually all it takes for me to make a stupid decision.
We stepped outside and into the furnace and the heat hit me like lava. No amount of water helped. No amount of fanning helped. Even dumping water over my head didn’t help. We had to leave “before I die.” Nothing dramatic about me. Especially when I’m hot. Not “hot stuff”. That ship has sailed. Just plain hot!
The shuttle bus took us to the lot where our car was parked and I continued to douse myself in water. Yes, people stared. I would have. Many of the women had sympathetic looks on their faces. Himself crawled under a seat and pretended I wasn’t with him. In the car I cranked the AC to tundra, opened all the windows and started driving and ripping off my clothes. Honest. Ripping them off. I couldn’t bear the T-shirt and blouse a minute longer. It wasn’t long before the bra hit the back seat, too. I drove home that way to the amusement of Himself who kept reminding me of my speed so I wouldn’t get stopped by a cop and remarking on my great. . .well you get the picture.
At the Eagles Super Bowl Parade It was cold and windy. I knew I had to wear my furry hat or I’d freeze, but I wanted to show spirit, too, so I stuffed Eagles cap of Himself on top. I was layered but the Eagles gear was underneath and wouldn’t fit over my big yak coat, which I also knew I’d need that day.
At the parade we wedged in among squeezing crowd and about the time Himself was bitching about freezing to death and putting his hood up, I started to sweat and needed space. Bursting out of the sea of people I found a spot along a wall to have a lean and loosen the clothing for a little bit. Snap! My son couldn’t resist and said, “That’s an interesting choice, mom.” Genetic attitude and mouth! He’ll get his moment with sartorial splendor one day, too. I’m waiting for it.