“Where are you?”
The texts were coming fast and furious from rather attractive husband.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I was trapped in the Lord & Taylor dressing room.
Crying.
I hate to shop. And I certainly hate to shop for perhaps the biggest moment of my life (sans legs spread and head crowning).
I was all set for the Listen To Your Mother show. My piece is good. My delivery smooth. My colleagues? Unfrigginbelievable. Producers Varda and Amy, Holly, and my new tequila-swirling best friend Betsy, have the talent and chutzpah to bring LTYM to NYC, yet still make a small town girl like me feel right at home.
But then we starting talking wardrobe, and it went downhill fast.
The vernacular flying around rehearsal was intimidating: sheath dress; red suede pants; palazzo pants. Then horror of all horrors: Spanx.
Not good.
“Nothing black on top.”
So I went to where the grown ups shop. Lord & Taylor. Fancy, eh? And I wandered the racks, looking at the people looking at the clothes.
Too old, too young, too Nana-country-club-esque. I wouldn’t wear any of this anywhere, let alone to a NYC performance, starring, um, me.
So I grabbed what I could in a variety of sizes: 6 – 14. Because I was once a 6, and well, now I’m not.
My one rule about trying on clothes is I take off all my clothes once: that’s it. I try on and I leave. There’s no return trip with other options. Once the street clothes are back on, this girl is done. Outta there.
Which doesn’t work so well when you’re shopping for the biggest day of your life. So when my rather attractive husband, Kid3 and Boy happened on this sobbing mom, they sprang into action.
It was like Project Runway, except older, wider, wiser. And the designers, fresh from the field, were wearing lacrosse cleats.
And low and behold, I got a top. And a jacket. And spent a whole lotta money that would have never have happened had I been alone. And I had a great pair of coral slacks (for you Trace, just for you) that would match amazingly perfect.
Not country club Connecticut perfect, but chic and upper West Side perfect.
So this non-shopper shopper trotted her happy little self to dinner with friends and announced, she had acquired an outfit for the big day! Only needed a bra and shoes, but otherwise done! Funky top, hip little jacket, and coral linen pants.
The horror was palpable. The women’s eyes bulged and darted around the table. Forks dropped. No one would look at me.
After some uncomfortable coughing and small talk, one could take it no longer:
“DO NOT, I REPEAT DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES PUT ANYTHING ORANGE ON YOUR ASS! DO YOU HEAR ME?? DON’T DO IT, I’m serious about this trust me you would kill me for not telling you. Your bottom half will be as large as a semi on camera.”
Enough! I got it loud and clear. No orange. Okay!
When leaving, she grabbed me by the shirt with desperation in her eyes:
“I mean it,” she menaced. “Do not do this. You are not good at shopping. You know this. I know this. Do not underestimate what I am trying to tell you: TRACTOR TRAILER.”
She got off her tiptoes and soothed my shirt, and kissed me goodbye.
“And get yourself to Payless for some cute little open toe shoes? Cute, cute, cute. And get a pedi too. I’ll come with you. It’ll be fun.”
I think I might have strung a vast conglomeration of mostly unintelligible swears at that point. Seriously, they couldn’t have bothered to tell you this *BEFORE* you went shopping? Really?
::sigh::
no one knew i was going shopping…. it’d be like going for a vasectomy. just never happens!
But coral should be ok, right, just not orange?! I don’t know what I would do if I had to go somewhere that was not old navy outfit friendly!
Most everything I own is from Costco. Am often afraid of being accused of shoplifting since I’m head to toe (and moisturizer too) from my fav big box in the world!
I am the same shopper. I hate it. And I only visit the dressing room once. The linen pants sound cute. 🙂
Good luck!!!!!!!!
They are cute. She’s a bitch. I love her, but gdamn it, she’s usually right and not taking any chances on my 4 minutes and 17 seconds of fame!
gawd i hate, bloody HATE, shopping. if i MUST do it, I’ll go to one store. one! most likely New York & Company. I’ll take everything i like into the dressing room in two sizes and if i go through it and find nothing. well, that’s the end of it. really. girl i feel your pain. if I can’t wear a black shirt and blue jeans, i’m not doing it. sorry. you are going to be marvelous hun. marvelous. so it’s being filmed? i don’t get to go to the show (though it’s right downtown) but i’d happily pay to watch it on the internet.
It’ll be on Listen To Your Mother YouTube so you can enjoy in the privacy of your own nest, wearing whatever you want. But for chrissake, wear something!
are you serious? hot damn! going there now!
Wish I had someone warm me of the orange cone danger.
So’s I wouldn’t have gone ON UP IN FRONT OF BLOGHER FOR MY COMMUNITY KEYNOTE WITH ORANGE ALL OVER MY BODY.
“What? Did Charlie Brown’s Great Pumpkin come early this year?”
Nope, just fashion dorkathon me.
In Blazing Wisconsin Hunter Orange.
Sees for yourself, girl…and learn a lesson.
xo
BREAK A LEG> SO HAPPY FOR YOU.
I’m sure you looked lovely and best? You didn’t get shot.
also… Ordered my very own LTYM shirt for perennial bragging rights, and wearing with my brand new fancy bra in hopes of replicating a fabulatastic profile pic!
I have scrubs for work that make me look like an escaped convict, so steering clear of the orange may have been very wise, tried to watch on youtube, must not be up yet??