Now, boys and girls, Missy and SF were honored to be invited last year and were looking forward to this year's affair. It was a given that the sistahs would be turned out in their finery and my closet wasn't offering up anything that would fit (New Year's resolution: LOSE WEIGHT!). So, off I went to find something to wear.
Let's put the facts on the table. I love crawling through Lowe's and Home Depot. Absolutely not thrilled with the dance needed in a clothing store. Particularly when everything I like is either too much for the budget or too small. Shoppette, where were you when I needed you? Your expertise could have been used as I searched and searched for something that met the criteria: Stylish; Affordable; Age-appropriate but not matronly. What a huge requirement!
It is cold and pouring buckets and absolutely nothing is "flipping my skirt." At least, nothing in my size. And, just what is my size? I haven't been shopping in so long until I don't even know. Everything that went into the fitting room came back out. The sales associate was busy bringing things that she just knew that I would like. N O T! "Come out and let me see it when you have it on." Not hardly, when long johns are a part of the attire and everything is making me look like a lump!
Finally found some things that I could live with. Notice I didn't say "to die for." Needed something to cover the arms. "Here are some shrugs." Cute as a button. And made my chest and shoulders look as though I were playing a linebacker position on somebody's team. Wended my way to the sales desk. As I waited for her to finish with the other customers, I browsed the racks which had escaped my scrutiny. What is this? She didn't show me this! Perfect! Conservative but with enough style to be interesting and something that will stay in style.
Of course, if you're getting an outfit, shoes are a must...especially if your only footwear consists of tennis shoes and slides. So off to my favorite shoe store...Rack Room. Hmm, my size is missing from among the shoes which caught my eye. Finally found some that I liked, in my size, and with a comfortable heel.
On the night of the affair, I'm dressed, accessories chosen, makeup splashed on, and the shoes are the last items to deal with. Left shoe...no problem. Right shoe? The foot reared up and screamed: "This is NOT a tennis shoe!" I couldn't put pressure on the foot. Painful! Good grief, they felt fine in the store!!
So what happened, boys and girls? I walked into the affair with my shoes in hand and everyday slides on the feet. Announced that I just wanted people to know that I did have shoes ('cause you and I know how the sistahs think). Fortunately, "the hostess with the mostest" and her sister had a spare pair of ballet slippers to help save the day. Going right out and buy some glitzy ones.
Maybe I can find some high-heel sneakers for the next affair. Be safe. Be Blessed!
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