Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Wardrobe Malfunctions

I would really like to think that I'm past the days of wardrobe malfunctions. I don't wear straps that can slip, I don't wear skirts that can ride up.

But in the past month I have now had three that make me want to want to wear an oversized black caftan ALL THE TIME.

I could totally pull this off, right?

The first one really and truly wasn't my fault.

We had taken the girls out to dinner, and I'd packed my handy dandy bag of markers and coloring pages. We sit in a booth - Reagan and Madison on the inside (to prevent escape) and Adam and I flanking them on the outside. I sit next to Reagan most weeks, since Madison is a true Daddy's girl and claims the spot next to him.

Reagan is allowed one marker at a time, but sometimes things get a little crazy and things get dropped. We always find all the markers and caps when it's time to leave, so we usually don't go crazy diving under the table during the meal. On this particular occasion, it was a blue marker she'd dropped. I didn't worry about it, I chose a new marker, and we went on with our evening.

As we were packing up, I found it on the seat. I didn't think anything of it. I triumphantly put the cap on, picked up the two year old, and chatted with a few people as I took my time getting to the car. I even stopped at the grassy area near the parking lot and let the girls run around.

I got home, put the girls to bed, started to change my own clothes and saw this.

In case you are wondering, yes, it did bleed through to my underwear, as well as to my skin. I was blue through and through.

Yup, I'd wandered around, blue butt on full display, in front of friends, with no one saying ONE WORD to me.


The second one happened a few weeks ago at BlogU.

I had driven down to Baltimore from central Connecticut in old, comfortable capris and a t-shirt. I knew I'd be in the car for hours, I knew that the sun beating down can make for a warm ride, and I wanted to be as comfortable as I could be.

Sidenote: I will not be driving down to Baltimore again. Between traffic and tolls a trip that should have taken five hours took six to get down there and over seven to get home, and the tolls almost equaled the amount of a train ticket. I also found out that my maximum road trip time appears to be four hours, at which point I just really, really, really need to be out of the car. This is not a good feeling to have when you are on I-95 with hours to go.

I checked in, found my room, met my roommate, and decided to change before the book signing/opening reception. I was feeling kind of grubby for the ride. I picked out a cute little dress that fell just above the knee.

I asked my roommate several times if it was too short, and she assured me it wasn't. I fixed my hair, put on my flats, made sure my namebadge was on, and headed out.

I thought I had a picture of me in this dress, but I do not. Nor do I have one where I am wearing my namebadge in the original fashion. So you'll have to use your imagination.

I was sitting in a chair at the signing table, but kept jumping up to greet friends.

And at one point I stood up, and my name badge, dangling from a long lanyard that reached down to about my belly button, caught the hem of my not-too-short dress, and PULLED THE DRESS UP TO MY STOMACH before I could catch it.

In other words, I flashed the room at the opening cocktail party. Before I'd even consumed a whole cocktail.

To be fair, very few people claim to have seen it. And even those who did claim it wasn't that bad. But I still FLASHED THE ENTIRE ROOM AT THE OPENING COCKTAIL PARTY.

I immediately did some lanyard magic to make sure that it never brushed up against another hem. And I wore pants the next day. And I carried around a Men In Black memory wiper.

Then I came home and made it a whole week without embarrassing myself (with my wardrobe).

Last weekend, after we took the girls to the pool, we decided to eat at the restaurant rather than go home and figure out what to cook. Although we pretend it's a snap decision, we always make sure that we have clothes to change into.

The changing of the children always seems to fall to me, since I am a girl and I have girls. I usually bring them one at a time into the locker room, but sometimes I'll end up with both at once. On this occasion, Adam had run to put something in his locker, so I'd be changing the three of us.

I got the girls into their dresses without incident. Then came the fun part of trying to change myself without losing either child or my dignity in the process.

In this case, I failed. I was attempting to wrangle myself out of my tankini and into my underwear and sundress without flashing the room, when Madison, thinking she was being funny, grabbed the towel that I was attempting to hold with my third hand as she ran by, causing me to drop the whole situation and show everyone in the locker room what boobs and belly...and beyond...look like after carrying and nursing two children.

Blue butts, full frontals, and towel slips are only the start to summer.

I think a black caftan is definitely in order.

Any embarrassing wardrobe moments you want to share to make me feel better? Pretty please?
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