Dare to Wear day is rapidly approaching and I must admit that I am blown away by your suggestions. I was definitely leaning toward a pair of zany rights, some retro print boots, or an outfit reincarnated from my teen years. I wasn’t prepared for a bathing suit or a feathery backside. I want to know, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!?
Perhaps you haven’t heard of self-esteem issues born from a poor body image, but I fear I’m developing a neurosis. There I go self-diagnosing. I am holding you partially responsible.
There are two things I can live without – my full length mirror and my scale. I’d be a well-adjusted woman if it were not for these two items plaguing me. After walking past my full length mirror several times the other day, I caught a view of my backside. Skidding to an abrupt halt, I turned to examine myself.
Oh, no, those dimples are in the wrong set of cheeks! Immediately I started sweating. My fat cells all swam furiously toward my bottom. Now, I know I have some cottage cheese, but I thought I only had a small container, not the jumbo family size.
Upon closer inspection, I found that the inside fabric of my pant pockets were merely wrinkled and bunched. What a relief! Waves of nausea subside and I begin to breath normally. These wrinkles may be the result of my using irons as bookends. I convince people that my clothing isn’t wrinkled, I just prefer that new crinkly fabric. It comes from years of eating crinkle cut fries and wavy potato chips. Come to think of it, my small container of cottage cheese also comes from years of eating fries and chips.
Here is my dilemma…how can I possible prance around on December first clad in nothing but a swimsuit and a furry frump? I’d have to at least spread my feathers to include much of my body in order to avoid frostbite. I do live in the North and it’s a bit nippy in December. I don’t even have a tan! My only color came from eating too many carrots last week.
Unlike the swanky Texas Woman, I do not wear swimsuits to work. When I am being interviewed one of my first questions is whether I’ll have to sport swimwear. I legalistically adhere to not showing more than 40% of my land mass at once. Automatically certain jobs are eliminated. No lifegaurd jobs for me. I turned down an offer from Sports Illustrated this past summer and Hooters is not even a consideration. I reserve swimwear for the beach where I sit holding a book in front of my face, wearing large sunglasses, a floppy straw hat.
Now I’m a pleaser by nature, but I think I must disappoint this once. You can guarantee I will not be sporting a hairy hiney, feathered fanny, botanical butt, or furry frump on December first.
I will be tame. I will keep my self-esteem stable. I will spare my children. They are already going to need to spend their inheritance on therapy. Imagine what feathers would do to them.
Please join me on December first…Dare to Wear! Nothing you wear needs to be drastic. Just wear something in public that you’ve said you would never wear…click the link and read the rules. It will be fun!