I was supposed to post this yesterday, but didn’t get a chance to. I was out of town for the weekend and just didn’t feel like sitting in front of the computer when I got home. Anyway, since last week was so tough, I figured I’d share some funny style-related stories of mine, and the lessons learned from them. Comic relief is always good! Enjoy!
Oh, So… Quiet!
When I was getting measured for my wedding dress at one of the bridal shops in Chicago, the woman measuring me started, as normal, at my bust. Now, I had been planning on asking for my measurements to confirm what I’d measured myself (because it was important for me to know in general, but also for modeling), but I didn’t have to. When she took my bust measurement, she said, all cutelike, “33, nice and small”. I chuckled a little, because, well, it’s true… but I certainly hadn’t expected an editorial comment on my bust measurement.
When she got to my waist, she said, “25! Oh, so tiny!” and giggled, being cutesy and, I’m guessing, thinking she was flattering me. I laughed this time, only because I knew what was coming. My hip measurement. I’m pear-shaped, and while thin, my curves are in my bottom. Plus, I regularly took my own measurements, so I knew what number was next.
Sure enough, there was no cute little exclamation about smallness when it came to my hip measurement. In fact, she didn’t even say the number (which was 39). She just turned and wrote it down. I think my mom was a little embarrassed when I said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that one”, had her tell me, and then said, “yea, not so tiny, huh?” No doubt the woman taking my measurements was embarrassed, and I think she should have been. There was no reason to comment on my measurements, and since then, I’ve never had anyone else do such a thing, nor have I witnessed it.
Lesson learned! Hopefully, that women learned her lesson and doesn’t make editorial comments about people’s measurements any longer. I was a good sport about what she was saying about me, but another woman may not have been!
For what it’s worth, we decided not to order from that shop, but it was based on pricing, not her measuring tactics.
Prescription Deodorant To The
I mentioned last Monday my issue with sweating. Well, back in 2004 I spoke with my doctor about it and got a prescription for some heavy-duty deodorant that was supposed to help curb the problem. It was one I could put on in the morning, and didn’t have to wear at night or do anything strange with (like wrap my armpits with plastic wrap). After a few weeks, it seemed to be working, which meant I could start wearing things I’d always wanted to, but couldn’t because of excessive sweat.
One of those things, was a certain shirt from Polo. It was a standard buttondown shirt, but the fabric was such that when I sweat, it showed. It was a weave of white fibers and dark blue fibers that made a very fine check pattern you could see up close, but from far away it looked light blue. I loved the shirt, and was thrilled to finally be able to wear it.
So there I was, in my new-favorite, and rather pricey for my salary at the time, Polo buttondown, sitting at my desk. I dropped something and reached for it, and when I did, I noticed a strange streak of color on my shirt, on the inside of the sleeve. I went into the bathroom to check it out, and upon raising my one arm, saw that to my absolute horror my awesome prescription deodorant had completely bleached the underarms of my lovely shirt! The blue had gone pink, and that weird streak I saw on the inside of my sleeve? That was where I’d rubbed against myself.
I was pink under my arms from my bust line almost to my elbows! I cuffed the sleeves of my shirt and bloused it out more to make it a little less obvious, but it was bad. Luckily, I noticed before lunch. I ran on lunch to Walmart and picked up a plain white, short-sleeved buttondown shirt and changed into it. The drastic change was noticed, and when I was asked about it, I said I had been warm, and my coworkers bought it.
When I got home, I threw my buttondown in the wash. As I suspected would happen, the bleaching didn’t wash out and my top was ruined. I was mad! Needless to say, after tossing my buttondown into the trash, the prescription deodorant followed. I wasn’t going to risk ruining any more clothes!
Lesson learned! Now, any time I try a new deodorant I swatch it on a top that isn’t important to me and see how it reacts after a period of time. I’ve stopped wearing prescription stuff too… it’s just not worth ruining clothes over!
We Have A Pair Just Like This!
In high school my mom bought me this fantastic pair of high heeled loafers. When I tried them on, I had a sprained ankle, so it was wrapped. But I loved them so we got them. When I got home, and after my ankle was healed, I went to wear them, and one felt way bigger than the other. I looked, and sure enough, one shoe was a 7, one was an 8. Yikes! We’d bought them in Florida, at a store we didn’t have here in Illinois, so we had to call the store and see if there was anything they could do for us.
When my mom called, the woman went to check to see if they had a pair in a size 7. They didn’t, she said, but they did have a pair “just like” the one we had. Thankfully, no one else had bought the other shoes! They shipped us the other 7, and sent a label for us to send back the 8, and all was good. I wore those shoes for years, so it was definitely worth the hassle.
Lesson learned! Don’t rely on the salespeople to check to make sure you have the same size shoes. Double-check yourself when you’re boxing up your purchase. Oh, and never try shoes on when you have a bandaged foot. The fit on both feet is important!
I Swear I Had…
The last time my husband and I moved, we tried to make as few trips possible in our own cars, with existing containers, so we wouldn’t have to rent a truck for long or waste too many boxes. One of the things we packed some stuff in, was a hamper. We used it for our dirty towels (which had been it’s sole purpose at the apartment), but also for toiletries and other stuff from under our bathroom sink. When we got to the new place, I unpacked the stuff for the bathroom and left the towels where they were; we had plenty clean ones to use.
I also used the move as an opportunity to clean out my closet. After all, why move with a bunch of stuff I didn’t need or wasn’t going to wear? It was a successful cleanout, with something like 3 garbage bags of stuff getting donated.
A few months after we moved, I found myself looking for a pair of olive green skinnies I knew I owned. I emptied my 2 clothes hampers and my husband’s, looked on all my pants hangers (in case they’d gotten hung instead of folded), looked in suitcases and travel bags, and even looked in my husband’s closets. They were nowhere. I looked for them for weeks, and even asked my husband if he had seen them. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I had, for some silly reason, donated them. Bummer.
A couple months later, I was doing laundry and felt like we had less towels than we should. The hamper from our bathroom was now in our bedroom, and I decided to check that out. Sure enough, it still had towels in it. So I began emptying it, planning on washing those too.
I got about 3/4 of the way down and I spotted a shirt I’d had similar thoughts about; I’d missed it, but figured I had purged it. I kept going, and found a couple other tops, and then, to my delighted surprise, there were my olive skinnies! Not sure how they had ended up in our towel hamper, but I had them again, and boy was I excited! If there’s one thing I hate, it’s trying to find skinny jeans that fit me right!
Lesson learned! Always look in the unexpected places too! But more importantly, put dirty clothes where they belong, and they’ll be where you look for them.
The Big Cups, Or The Little Ones
During my first fitting for my wedding dress, the woman doing the alterations came out of the back with some bust-enhancing cups that could be added to the dress–“big” ones that added a full cup size, and “little” ones that added about half a cup and helped with shaping. I laughed as I told her I didn’t need them–my husband knew what he was getting himself into–but she insisted I try them both on to see how they changed the fit of my dress. They did change the way the dress looked, and I opted for the big ones.
At the second fitting, I noticed the cups had been sewn in as I was stepping into the dress. After I was zipped in and a couple more pins were placed, the alterations lady said “I’ll be right back” and came out, again, with the big cups and the little cups. I said, “we did this already,” laughing. “Oh,” she says, “did you decide on nothing, then?”
She went white as I flipped the edge of the dress inside out and said, “nope, the big ones are sewn in already”. Poor woman was stumbling all over herself apologizing, but my mom and I were hysterical with laughter. I’ve embraced my small boobies, and wasn’t offended at all! I assured her it was fine, and that there were no hard feelings at all, and eventually she was laughing over it too.
Lesson learned! I do have a slight feeling that the alterations woman at this particular bridal shop now double-checks what she’s done and hasn’t done before offering enhancements any longer, though. Me? That whole thing confirmed that it’s better to be able to laugh at yourself, and embrace your body, than to not.
One of my favorite Sex And The City episodes is the one where Carrie has to model a pair of panties, and to the horror of everyone, falls on the runway. It was a big fear of mine when I walked runway (which was only a handful of times), and I always joked about it before a show. Thankfully, it never happened to me, nor at any shows I was in! But it happens more than you’d think, and not just on ANTM’s crazy “Wipeout” style runways. It happens at both small shows and big ones. Check out this video of runway falls from all over.
Lesson learned! Actually, I guess there’s no real lesson here, except that maybe watching where you walk is important!
Care To Share?
Do you have any funny stories, or lessons you’ve learned because of wardrobe malfunctions, mistakes someone else has made, or something you’ve done? Do share!
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