Because I share my humiliation openly and willingly

March 15, 2006


So, I’ve mentioned before how, due to my job, I end up attending endless amounts of social functions and “galas” around these parts. I should preface this by saying “galas” in my neck of the woods usually entails a theme of some sort that goes WAAAAAAY-HAAAY over the top.

Well, here’s one for ya.

Husband and I are hosting a table for a local non-profit’s gala next weekend. I’ve invited some board members, their friends, and some of our friends to join us at the event for “dinner and dancing and auctions”.

The theme for this event has to do with the 50s and 60s music, etc. It occurred to me that there was no clue about dress code on the invitation, so I searched the organization’s website to see if I could call someone to ask — you know, to advise our guests. Ahem…

Well, turns out not only is the theme (decorations, music, etc…) 50s and 60s, (wait for it) the DRESS CODE is the same.

Oh, for the love of all that is good and holy.

And so, there I’ll be… a slightly pregnant woman decked out in rolled up jeans, white socks, penny loafers (yes, I still have them), one of Husband’s shirts with my hair in a ponytail and a scarf tied all up in it.

Looking all professional for the board members, ain’t it?

But, don’t worry, Husband will be decked out in a letter sweater thankyouverymuch.

The shit I do for my paycheck is sometimes beyond me… Let’s just hope dinner isn’t “wedding chicken”.

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One Response to “Because I share my humiliation openly and willingly”

  1. bill Says:

    I still have my high school letter sweater.
    Class of 69.
    Sorry, you can’t have it. I promised the Smithsonian.