Wardrobe malfunction, Part II

Two weeks ago I tweeted:

That morning, when selecting what to wear, I considered the following:

  • I’ll be in a dark theater.
  • I’ll be with a bunch of kids.
  • I haven’t worn this shirt in two years. (I know there is a reason, but I cannot remember what it is.)

During the performance, the reason came back to me in a whisper of cold air up my spine. I do not wear this shirt because it does not fit properly.

It’s one of those crossover V-neck shirts that looks really cute when you first put it on and even retains some level of cuteness for the first hour of wear. It’s also striped in shades of red that flatter my hair color and skin tone. After a few hours of wear, however, it stretches and sags in the front, forcing constant adjustment to prevent, er, wardrobe malfunctions, particularly in the neckline area.  Also, I’d forgotten to wear a tank top or camisole under the shirt. By the end of the performance, I’d tugged and twisted the shirt so many times it had stretched to almost twice its size.

Like this, only with more sag. Via Treehugger.com

Shortly after the show ended, I thought I’d just slip into my jacket and slink on out of the theater. But this wasn’t just any show. It was the first U.S. tour for this traveling troupe of musicians and dancers from a university in Hubei Province, China. We heard the call for students in the audience to head onstage if they were interested in a meet and greet with the troupe.

Being the mother of a four-year-old Girl from China who loves, loves, loves all things Chinese, it didn’t take long for me to find myself being pulled by one hand toward the stage by my eager daughter while the other tugged at my malfunctioning top.

Once the college students made eye contact with my girl it was all over. I don’t now who gushed and giggled more: my girl or the pretty young women. My girl was passed around from student to student for photo opportunities and even rode on the shoulders of one of the male musicians. No amount of backing into the shadows stopped the inevitable, “Mom, how about you get into a few of these pictures?”

On the way home it occurred to me that I shouldn’t ever dress myself with a dark theater, it’s just kids, who cares attitude. You never know who you’ll bump into, and when you do, you’ll be judged by what you are wearing, like it or not.

When I got home I did two things: I tweeted my revelation and then I tossed that saggy shirt into the trash.

Lesson learned.

Skip this if you like Sarah P.

Associated Press

I don’t mean to be rude,  Ms. Palin, but last I checked, it was Nov. 14, that’s exactly 10 days after the election. Please be a good sport and go home. You have children who need you, including a special needs baby.  You have a state to run. You have to plot your course for world domination. Best you do that in Alaska where the air is cold and pure. You need to get out of those stuffy TV studios.

Once again, the election is over. There will not be a recount. Please stop with the campaign talking points. Stop saying “Bill Ayers” and “Joe the Plumber.” Stop defending yourself and replaying every offensive and defensive move over the last two months.  Whatever about the clothes. You’ve said your piece. Take a cue from John McCain and lay low.

I’m trying to be neutral about you. To not dislike you. But you are overexposed. Does the name Kato Kaelin mean anything to you?

I’m done.