Saturday, December 02, 2006

Getting Ready for A Party Can Be Scary Sometimes


For several weeks, I've known that I had a Christmas party to attend at work and the big event was scheduled for last night. Bob had to rush over and get Emily to the Christmas play she was performing in, and then swing back at home to pick me up so we could both attend the office Christmas party at a schmantzy hotel ballroom - it's a big yearly event. Though we usually dress very casual at the office, this is a glamourous stepping out opportunity!

So last night, I rushed home from work, threw off my usual jeans and sweater to shower and switch into glamour mode. I knew exactly what I was going to wear - the same long black skirt and black/silver glittery overblouse that I wore to the Bar Mitzvah three weeks ago. No problem.

Not a problem until I tried to slip into the skirt. It. Wouldn't. Go. Past. My. Thighs. To my hips. Not to mention zipping. Forget about it! Not even close.

Uh-oh. I thought, "It must need to be unzipped." No, it was already unzipped. Damn, I must have gained a significant amount of weight from three short weeks ago when I last wore this dress. All kind of possibilities rans through my mind: I had been eating a lot during Thanksgiving (and after). I'd been wolfing down some holiday candy. And now I was bloated from PMS. But how could this damn skirt not even rise past my thighs? Was I ballooning like the Philsbury Dough girl or what?

"Okay, I'm a little bloated, that's all. So when in doubt, just wear your black 'fat pants' - the dress pants that are comfy and fit even at my most bloated." I reassured myself by putting on those pants. "I'll just wear the blouse over the pants, and since it's such a roomy blouse, it will cover up my stomach."

More bad news. When I put on the blouse, it was very tight as well! Although I could wear it, the blouse was hiking up very much higher up the waistline area than I remembered from before. When I desperately tried to pull it longer over my stomach, then it looked dangerously low cut and exposed more cleavage than I cared to show!

But right now, Bob arrived and said, "We're late, we've got to go. Now!" I turned to him at that point and felt near tears. "Do I look as fat as I feel? I feel like a stuffed sausage!"

He's been married long enough (and is smart enough) not to tell the truth. Instead, he said, "Wow, that blouse looks nice on you - sexy! It's lower cut that I remember, but it looks fine."

So we left the house, and all through the party, I felt uncomfortable, like it was too tight and too hiked up. I kept tugging at it and praying I wouldn't be chosen to walk up to the platform where they were announcing names of employee gift winners. Thank goodness, my name never got picked! But all the time, I kept angsting over my sudden weight gain and trying to figure out what caused it. Hormones? The cookies I've been eating? The lack of exercise? Metobolic catastrophe! What on earth could be wrong with me and my middle-age body spread?

Well, when we picked up my daughter later that night from her friend's house, she said, "Mom, how was the party? You look great! I love that blouse on you! It looks a lot like my Women's Choir Performance Blouse. Hey wait, it IS my women's choir performance blouse! Why are you wearing it and stretching it all out of shape?"

A wave of relief instantly washed over me. "You're kidding. Is this really yours? Is that why it's so small? A size . . . . "

"2" she promptly supplied, and the skirt is a 1. You didn't stetch it out too much did you Mom?"




I couldn't believe it. I went upstairs, where I dug around in the closet and found my size 10/12 evening overblouse and skirt. Very similar to the daughters, but not at all the same size.

Here's a picture of MY holiday blouse:



Whew! What a relief (sort of). I still need to lose weight, but . . . . apparently both outfits were hanging in my closet, and due to lack of preparation and sheer panic, I scared the shit out of myself for no good reason. And I suffered through a holiday party in a very tight blouse when all the time, I had a more comfy one hanging at home. In my defense the two blouses look sort of similar (though certainly different enough that I should have caught on, but didn't). And I am so stressed out at this time of year that I make myself and others insane with my antics.

The moral of the story? If you have a holiday party coming up and you don't have time to lose 20 pounds before the big event, you might want to do a beauty preview, with full makeup, hairdo and dress rehearsal PRIOR to the said event so that you don't have a fashion misshap like this one. Ho, Ho. Ho.

12 comments:

Elysbeth said...

ROFL! I love it! Now remember...you still got into the top.

Jeanne said...

Too funny! I thought that maybe someone had shrunk it, but the real explanation is much better. Hope it didn't spoil the party for you.

Leslie said...

That is hilarious! I'm impressed you could even partially fit into your daughter's clothes. My daughter is tiny, too, but we don't have clothes that are similar enough to be confused.

ChelleC said...

Leslie, While this top is pretty for a middle-aged woman like me - but my daughter is very young, thin and stylish. The only reason she had a top remotely similar to mine in style was because it was imposed as a chior uniform for ALL the girls.

ChelleC said...

Elysbeth and Jeanne, yeah, I got into the top but I the skirt was a big NO WAY!!!!! And the top may not ever fit my poor daughter again. Ugggh. Yeah, it was a fun night, in spite of the discomfort.

Carol said...

I am laughing so hard it is making me cough. I have been coughing all week so I am used to it but this is worth coughing for.

You should be please that you were able to pull it off with grace and dignity.

Laura said...

I was going to say, heck, you fit into a single digit top? Wow!

You're totally right, though. It's always good to do a clothing test run after Thanksgiving.

ChelleC said...

Okay, I squeezed into the top, but believe me, it didn't fit at ALL. It was a stretchy knit and it was stretched as tight as a tournaquet. It may never fit my daughter again.

Phyllis W. said...

Now that Bob has told you how sexy you look in it, that is YOUR new top. Too bad for the kiddo.

LynnH said...

Dang, you fit a size 1? People say I'm thin but I haven't worn that size since middle school.

I *so* could have done that.

ChelleC said...

Let me make it clear folks, I do NOT fit into a size 1, not at all!! I wear a 12 actually!!!! This was just an extremely stretchy top that was way too small - believe me, it didn't fit. It looked BAD but I wore it anyway because we were rushing out the door. I looked awful and now that I've stretched it out of shape, it won't fit the daughter again.

ChelleC said...

The skirt that is a true "1" and tiny didn't even make it up over my thighs.