I'm Too Sexy For My Shirt
And I get it. When I went to school in NYC, a couple of my friends were stopped by Eileen Ford and asked to come to her agency to model. They were cute, and one was even, in an exotic way, sexy even back then. But not me. I was and always will be, fine with how I look.
Ummm...I never confessed that. Bless me Father...
Which leads me to work now. Back when I was working full time at Wrinkle City and running to my part time fashion gig, I use to have to make quick changes in the stockroom. My full time job required 3 piece corporate suits, panty hose and pumps. The fashion job was much more casual, with one of the only no-nos besides tongue piercings being panty hose (because they are corny). Becoming a full time manager at the fashion company means that I only have a couple of 3 piece suits left (like black ones for funerals) and tossed the panty hose.
I think I dress fashionably and appropriately for my age. I don't own tight sweaters and low-rise jeans and my shoes and boots are all flats, thanks to bunions from wearing high heels for 40 plus years to all my other jobs. Obviously, not all of my co-workers feel the same way as I do.
I asked her what was wrong with the outfit. She sniffed...AGAIN...and said "Don't you think you're a little too old to wear that?" "A little old?" I questioned. She replied "Well that's too sexy for someone YOUR AGE to wear to church."
I started having flashbacks to some of the old ladies at Wrinkle City with their overdone makeup and crazy clothes. Was I becoming one of them? I asked a relative in HR what she thought, and she told me that my response should have been to tell her to mind her own business. I asked the pastor in church if he thought I dressed inappropriately, and he laughed and said my associate shouldn't come to a later Mass where her head would explode if she saw what one of the women wears each week. And I asked my boss, who laughed and said the same woman told her that her shirts are too tight.
So I let it slide, and last week went shoe shopping with the BFF. It's been a while since I bought anything new, and I'm like a 10 year old boy with shoes-they get scuffed and worn like I used them for a bike brake. We found a great sale and I bought, ahem, more than I needed including a trendy, strappy little pair of suede wedges that look really cute with jeans. In fact, the first day I wore mine, both my boss and another associate wore similar ones with higher heels.
One of my tasks that day was to send some heavy boxes of clothes back to our central warehouse. As I was pushing one of the boxes, it hit the transition between the wood and tile floor and stopped me dead in my tracks. My foot rolled in my new strappy sandal, and it started to hurt, so I changed into sneakers.
When I left the store two hours later, I could hardly walk. By the time I got home, I couldn't put weight on it. Now, I'm not a baby, and can tolerate pain very well. My second son was an all natural delivery and weighed 10 lb. 12 oz. I debated taking two Advil and waiting until morning until the dog decided for me when he stepped on my foot. Since son #3 was working, #1 was no where to be found and #2 lives too far away, I drove myself to the hospital.
Maybe the sniffer is right...I'm too old to wear strappy little sandals, that, in the back of my mind, I saw as being sexy.
Or maybe, Wingman was right when he use to just call me a klutz.