It started with Teebs, and then it was picked up by Ditsy. Now I too have joined the ranks of women sharing their embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions. At least I’m in good company.
Clock stopped. I've overslept! Mad rush to get dressed and make it to 8 a.m class, which is followed by 9 a.m. class, which is followed by 10 a.m. class. No time to waste in the restroom. When I arrive at the Student Union for lunch with friends, I desperately need to pee.
In the bathroom I drop my jeans and notice something isn’t quite right, but I can’t put my finger on it. I keep staring at the undies around my ankles and going, “Huh?”
And then it hits me: yes, in my great haste to get dressed in the morning, I put my underwear on SIDEWAYS.
Sideways?!!! I know, Internet, you’re thinking, how the hell is it possible to put your underwear on SIDEWAYS and not notice immediately? Ask Victoria’s Secret, makers of the particular panties that pulled this trick off. They were French cut, stretchy, and the waist and leg openings were about the same size, as was the width of the side panels and the width of the crotch.
But excuses aside, let me just say I am not a MORNING person. Not at all. And I don’t drink coffee, so I don’t emerge from my mental fog as readily as some people do.
Once I had my second child, not only was I not a morning person, I was not an afternoon person either. I also wasn’t a night person. What I was instead was a barely functioning person day and night. The toddler-with-a-baby years ruined my mental and physical health.
And thus to restore some semblance of my former self and get out of the house for an hour or so a few days a week, I signed up for an aerobics class. Getting to the class, however, was tricky, because if my husband was delayed as little as five minutes getting home from work, my carefully constructed logistics would fall apart.
I needed to leave for the gym just after 5 p.m. Everyone with kids knows this is the single most evil hour of the day. They tend to become bored, tired, hungry, cranky and crying all at once, right as you’re trying to cook dinner. It’s not pretty. Every rotten thing my son ever did occurred after 4 p.m. And my daughter, well this was the moment she needed to be in my arms every second. And being trapped in the kitchen with two unhappy children was not working for me—because hey, grownups also get cranky, tired, and hungry but we’re not allowed to throw tantrums. Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah!
And so, long story short, I was always in a tizzy trying to get the kids fed, and get dressed, grab my stuff, and get out the door so I could sweat my stress away.
This might explain why one day when we were warming up in class, I looked down at my feet and discovered I was wearing two different shoes. Two different shoes!!!
The only thing they had in common was that they were both Rykas. But one was a walking shoe and one was a HIGH TOP.
How did I manage to do this? To borrow Ditsy Chick’s tagline, “I used to have a mind, but now I have small children.”
But my stupid gym woes didn’t end at that moment. No, I had to further humiliate myself on another day.
Now most of the women in this class were far more buff and fit than I was—and they had the cute workout outfits with the shorts and sports bras. Not me, I had big oversized t-shirts borrowed from my husband and gray heather bicycle shorts purchased at Sears (yes, SEARS!).
One day I was again running late and came flying through the gym door, tossed my towel and water bottle into a cubby and joined the people who were already in motion. Naturally, the back of the class is crowded with newbies trying to learn the routines, so despite the fact that I am not buff or well-dressed, I jump in where there’s room--on the front line.
I’m confidently grape-vining to the left when I glance at the enormous mirrored wall behind the instructor and see something white flapping below my throat. What is that stuck to my shirt?
Grape vine to the right and peer closer. Reach up to my throat and realize that the white thing bouncing in the breeze is my t-shirt tag. Yes, Internet, my t-shirt tag. Not only do I have my tacky tee on inside out, I also have it on backwards!
Thank God I was wearing matching shoes.
So now that I have bared my fashion faux pas and wardrobe malfunctions to the WORLD, you’re invited to do the same.
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March 29, 2006