the best laid plans

last nite i went out for what i thought would be dinner... instead, what i got was a hearty helping of unending wardrobe malfunctions...

it all went downhill when i decided to wear a new black dress to meet my friend for dinner. soon after putting it on, i realized that the sales folks forgot to remove the obtrusive, plastic anti-theft device from the inner lining. had i the good sense that god gave me, i would have simply selected a different outfit for dinner, and returned to the store another day to have the sales folks remove the plastic shackle. instead, i decided that i could just cut the unruly thing out and no one would be the wiser. after all, the alarm was only attached to the black slip and not the SHEER top layer... once i frankensteined my beautiful new frock, i was horrified to discover that when the light hit the hem of the garment, my 'brilliant solution' was plainly visible.

not one to be undone by my foolish decision to TAKE SCISSORS TO A BRAND NEW DRESS, i decided i could still make it work if i wore a pair of black panty hose (after the whole pee hole panty line incident, i was still a little too gun shy for spanx) under the black hole. it was only after i was in the car headed to meet my friend that i realized there was a gaping rip the size of my fist, calf-height in the nylons, peeping up over the top of my boot. christ. seriously?? i was now heading to dinner looking less 'class act' and more 'rat's ass'.

once at the restaurant, i did as little walking as possible so as not to upset the delicate hole on the side of my leg... i managed to barely conceal the panty hose carnage by gingerly pushing the nylon down below the top of my boot. i also adopted a crafty swagger which kept the hem of my dress close to my leg, thus concealing the other hole. fortunately, we didn't have to wait long for a table.

the rest of dinner was without issue... until we left the restaurant and headed off for the car in the pouring rain. in the twenty feet sprint between the restaurant entrance and the valet stand my belt somehow slipped from my waist and tangled up at my ankle, tripping me up in my hundred yard dash. i grabbed the sopping wet strip of satin and hobbled the rest of the way to the valet shelter. i'm sure i must have looked like some kind of crazed hunch-back dragging a lame leg behind, grabbing at her tattered, billowing mumu, and trailing a long, limp garden hose around her leg (because when you buy dresses in the big girls' sizes, belts are the length of industrial extension cords and not the S, M, L sizes of the neatly merchandised belt rack at banana republic).

just when i thought i was completely undone, this hobbled bag-lady endured yet one more fashion injustice... as i turned to give my friend a farewell hug, my friggin' necklace broke, sending a shower of beads down my dress and into the gathering puddles. i couldn't help but laugh... and not the normal toss-my-hands-in-the-air-and-shrug kind of chuckle, but a maniacal, hyena, quick-move-away-from-the-crazy-lady laugh. needless to say the valet got my car pretty quickly...

the best part of the evening was finding still MORE beads after i got home - there were a few in my boot, three or four tumbled out of my underwear during a bathroom break, another fell out of my bra as i got ready for bed...

i gotta say, though, that dinner was amazing. my girlfriend from out of town was amazing. and as resistant to being fabulous as my outfit was, i felt nothing less than amazing, too...

all in all, a really nice night.