And then I’d write about it on my blog?
Well, I’m back at it.
Dear boys of Buffalo, consider yourself warned. (This warning also applies to dentists. And really everyone.)
Including lots of stuff you probably wish you didn’t know about me. Like, the fact that I have massive man-calves with no visible ankles. Or the fact that I was once in a secret club named after cats.
Because, apparently, I’m not one of those people who was born with any kind of shame. Or, as you already know, ankles.
But there is one thing that you may be surprised to find out about me.
Especially if you’ve met me in person in the past year or two.
The thing is…
Well, I don’t know how to say this exactly.
But.I’m a girly girl.
You see, as much as I gab on and on about pants, in my heart of hearts, I’m a sucker for a cute skirt or dress.
I love me some sparkle and have been known to carry emergency earrings. You know, just in case.
I always feel a little bit better if I’m wearing some eyeliner and eye shadow. Although lipstick kind of gives me the heebie jeebies. And I can’t, for the life of me, apply mascara without having it clump up around my eyes all Tammy-Faye-Bakker-style.
And, well, I’ve always had something of a shoe obsession. Even if my impossible man-feet make it hard for me to find a pair that fits.
Plus, I’ve never quite figured out how to walk in high heels without falling over. Probably because I have enough trouble walking in any kind of shoe without falling over. But that doesn’t really stop me from buying high heels. And occasionally pulling them out of my closet when I’m drunk or suffering from self-delusion. Usually a little bit of both.As much as I love swirly dresses and sparkly things and shoes I’ll never wear unless my dinner consisted of margaritas, I haven’t indulged my girly girl tendencies much over the past few years that I’ve been volunteering and working in Asia.
After all, swirly dresses aren’t exactly practical when you’re weeding rice paddies.
Or teaching in an unheated classroom in the middle of a frigid Chinese winter.
Plus, even when I wanted to get my girly girl on, I had trouble finding girly stuff in my size in Asia.
Heck, I could barely find manly stuff in my size.
In China, it took me three weeks of trying on men’s boots to find a pair that would fit around my massive ankle-less man-calves. And I’m still pretty sure those boots were designed for ogres.And, well, I’m kind of lazy.
So I’m not just going to get all dolled up for no reason. I mean, there has to be some good reason for a girl like me to get up off her couch and root through her closet to find something that doesn’t resemble sweatpants.
Like, hot guys.
Or, umm, more hot guys.
And, let’s just say, I didn’t have many opportunities to meet hot guys in China. Not because there aren’t plenty of hot guys in China. But because there weren’t a whole lot of hot guys hanging out on my couch. As crazy as that may sound.Now I’m back in the States.
Where I very rarely have to wade through any rice paddies. Or paint boats. And my classroom comes equipped with fancy stuff like heat.
I can actually buy clothes and shoes here that were designed for lady people. And not for ogre people.
Plus, there is always the chance I might run into hot guys here. You know, once I get off my couch.This month I’ve been invited to a handful of social events, including two weddings, so I thought it might be a good time to start looking like a lady again.
Even if I haven’t quite got the hang of acting like one.
The first wedding I was invited to attend was last Sunday, so I headed to the mall on Saturday to buy a dress. Instead I ended up with two dresses. And, umm, two skirts. And it’s possible I bought a sequined sweater. Because, seriously, you guys, SEQUINS.
I even bought a pair of high heels. Well, technically, the heels are not really all that high. In fact, I’m pretty sure Lady Gaga would consider them sneakers.
But, hey, they’re prettier than ogre boots. And I can wear them without falling down. Much.On Sunday, it was time for my big lady-makeover.
I piled on the glittery eye makeup.
I shimmied into my new dress.
I even put on nylons. Because, you know, nothing makes you feel more like a lady than wearing an item of clothing that boasts a “panty compression scale” on the packaging.
Then I shoved my camera, my phone, my wallet and some backup eyeliner into a teeny, tiny girl-purse the size of a panini sandwich.Which was almost as challenging as shoving myself into my new panty compression nylons.
And I set off for the wedding in the hopes that I wouldn’t fall over. Or burst open due to too much panty compression.And, let me tell you, I was pretty glad I’d made the effort because the whole event turned out to be quite classy.
The wedding was in a beautiful historic cathedral in downtown Buffalo.
And the reception was in this super fancy, schmancy ballroom complete with sparkly chandeliers and a photo booth in the corner.
There were waiters walking around with trays of hors d’oeuvres I couldn’t recognize or pronounce. There were more forks on my table than I knew what to do with. There were a number of hot guys. And, of course, there were all kinds of pretty ladies there, including my friend and her beautiful new bride.
So I’d like to think I fit right in.
Even if photographic evidence suggests otherwise.Do you dress differently while traveling or living overseas than you do at home?