Dressing up – and I don’t mean the children.
Last Saturday night I was invited to be the Master of Ceremonies for a Kids Expo and Fashion Parade. That sounded like a lot of fun, so I accepted, and was excited about it until I remembered I’d have to get dressed up.
Playcentre isn’t exactly the kind of place where you want to wear your best clothes. The old ratty stuff with the paint smeared on is the best. So most people that have met me through Playcentre have really only ever seen me in my getting messy clothes.
And yet, there was Saturday and the Event.
I don’t get dressed up. I don’t own makeup (except for one tube of lipstick). I don’t even own a hairdryer. We have hairspray but technically that’s The Girl’s for when she has her dancing events.
What to do? Well, I tried calling my hairdresser the day of, but naturally she was all booked up. I ended up going to the mall and getting one of those no-appointment places to wash and blow dry my hair all nice. Step one done.
I looked for makeup but was horrified and astounded of the price of it, not to mention my fear of buying the wrong stuff, so I didn’t buy any.
And then, much to the amusement of my husband, spent two hours trying to decide what to wear and how. I ended up in this dress (in orchid) but had to creatively pin it in front because it was slightly too big. Fortunately, my lipstick didn’t clash with the dress.
The result didn’t impress me at all, but it seemed to do the trick. My hubby pronounced it lovely and at the event, nobody said anything like “Oh, that outfit is interesting,” which is girl code for “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” so that’s a good thing.
I actually thought no one had noticed that I even attempted to get dressed up. But today, at work, a couple of friends said it was a pleasant change to see me in a dress and gussied up. I’ll take that and run.
And dream of being rich enough to hire a stylist so I don’t have to put myself through the agony again!!