Thursday, January 11, 2007


oops...malfunctioning wardrobe

So today I decided to wear my favorite brown skirt. I had bought it last year at TJ Maxx, and had instantly fallen in love with it. Tweedish, down to the knees, it has a nice fall and shape. It goes great with my brown boots, and it has a pleat to one side, and I love pleats.

Or, well, so I thought it was a pleat, until the first time I wore it, felt a breeze, looked down, and realized that it was actually a huge-ass slit that goes to my mid-thigh.

Hesitating for a second on that warm fall day in 2006, I figured that people see more of me when I wear shorts, or, you know, a bathing suit (although I wear neither at work), so it was all good.

I used to feel like a little ho when I sat at my old desk because that leg faced out, and I'd inevitably flash all visitors that came to our little corner of the world. At my new desk, that leg faces my boss, and the random man in the office building across from ours, and I don't feel many qualms about occasionally flashing either, so it's all good.

At any rate. For Halloween, I dressed as a skanky Minnie Mouse, and wore thigh-highs for the first time, and fell in love. There was no annoying band around the waist, and they stayed up through a long walk, goofy dancing, and climbing up and down stairs. Remembering that experience fondly, I had bought a new pair when I was home for Christmas, and I decided to try them out today. I had bought the talls, since I'm tall, and I was shocked to find that they went all the way up to my ass. Eh, not so much comfortable. So I scrunched them down a bit, and that was that.

Walking to and from the Metro was no problem. Sitting at work was no problem, and the slit fell open per usual, and I showed my boss my new purchase. She good-naturedly admired them. The man across the alley didn't seem to notice.

Lunchtime rolled around, as it wonderfully does, and I suggested Au Bon Pain to Coworker Rob. It's only about six blocks away (or three-tenths a mile, as my pedometer accurately or unaccurately says), but the second we exited and started down the sidewalk, I knew it would seem a lot longer.

Rob was talking, and I couldn't focus. Those hot thigh-highs were becoming not-so-hot as they steadily inched their way to my knees. I was smiling, nodding, and inwardly panicking. How the hell can one maintain inner poise when their clothes were falling off?

We stopped at a light in front of a bar, and I blurted out my confession, interrupting Rob mid-sentence. "Um, this may be TMI, or an overshare, but my thigh-highs are NOT staying up."

Rob helpfully suggested that I invest in garters, as I bent to the side, trying to pinch through the layers of my coat and skirt to somewhat modestly yank the offending items up. The job somewhat achieved, I turned around, and realized that there had an older man directly behind me watching the show with a horrified look on his face. Cringing, I tried to pull off an innocent smile.

The rest of the walk to Au Bon Pain was only interrupted two more times by minor pulls on my part, with Rob waiting patiently and understandingly. To tell the truth, I was rather surprised, because Rob is generally very quick with a cutting joke.

For example...
scene: a couple of months ago, when we were coming back from lunch.
rob: we can't cross here, there's construction.
me: I'm a girl, I can do whatever I want to do. *insert snooty hairflip and obnoxious tone*
rob: yeah, except earn as much as men.
*raucous laughter on behalf of all*

But he was sensitive to my compromising position, and once we ordered from Au Bon Pain, he held my food for me while I went into the bathroom and hiked those babies up once more.

And here, my friends, is where I made my error. Even though the bathroom was disgusting, I should have risked an attempt to balance to remove my boots, one at a time, and take off those risky undergarments (are stockings strictly undergarments?). I was behind the privacy of closed doors. But I didn't realize that things would quickly progress to horrendous.

Walking briskly back to work, I tried to take small, clenching steps. But my efforts were to no avail. I looked down, and to my horror, I spied the top of the lacing ringing my left leg, and the progress had been helpfully highlighted by the long slit in my skirt.

I froze. Embarrassed. My pride, trying to hang on. Rob told me to keep walking, assuring me that it wasn't a big deal. Walking erratically, I pulled over at an ATM, threw my foodbag on the little shelf, and grabbed the lace, trying to pull it up straight. Rob looked at me, and I wailed, "DON'T LOOOOOK ATTT MEEEEE!"

And he responded, "I wasn't. I turned away."

So I reponded, in true female fashion, "What? Why the hell not?"

We crossed the street, and I grabbed an available bench in the tiny park, parallel to a long line of cars stopped at a red light. Deciding to ditch the decorum, I sat down, stretched my left leg in front of me, reached down, and hiked up the nylons, going up to the top, the slit coming in handy for easy access. Hello, 18th St. I glanced up, and met the eyes of a guy coming my way. On his face was the shy smile of a teenager meeting a prostitute for the first time, and I hastily ran to catch up to Rob, hissing, "Donn't leave me."

We crossed another street, back at the spot where I had first confessed my wardrobe issues. I was tempted to duck into the bar and take them off, but that bar has an upstairs bathroom, and it was only marginally farther than work, I think.

At this point, Rob told me to just hold them up, so I grabbed my leg through my coat and skirt, and walked, trying to make it look less than obvious. Rob kindly said that you couldn't even notice, but when we passed a coworker, I caught him doing a double take.

Having finally learned my lesson, once I got to work I tossed those suckers in the trash, feeling no regret. Good riddance. I think this topic could bear some more investigating on my part before I make any more purchases....

Oh my G-d.

I'm laughing so hard... and the only reason why is that I totally relate.
On his face was the shy smile of a teenager meeting a prostitute for the first time, and I hastily ran to catch up to Rob, hissing, "Donn't leave me."

Oh, Meg, these stories are why I love your blog so much. They are sooooo real and we all deal with them.

I bought these really cute new underwear that were silky and such, and I loved 'em. I wore them to work one day though, with the lovely "business casual" pants, and went for a walk with my then walking-buddy, Andy.

Literally, every 10 steps I took I had to pull them back up! Seems that they and dress pants aren't meant to be worn together. Who knew?

My point is that it honestly does happen to all women. Ugh. And yeah, that very reason is why I still wear the full-fledged panty-hose when I need to.

P.S. You were an adorable mouse: only slightly skanky. ;)
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Hilarious story, Meggers!

This all happened because your figure is much more svelte than you thought. (brownie points for JC!)

And honestly, that's why I never wear the damn things. Unless you count spandex...
Look at JC, not only pulling out the big words, but going for brownie points too! Wow!
That has happened to me as well. ever since I have always been hesitant to buy those again- although I do believe that they are incredibly sexy
eileen: hurray!

tc: Yessssss. Don't you hate these ironic situations? It's like, you're wearing these hot things, and it totally backfires. I'm just glad I didn't discover the malfunction when on a would have been a bit more embarrassing (though a good ice-breaker, I suppose!).

jc: oooh double bonus points - one, for having the knowledge that they were falling down b/c they were too big, and two, for applying that knowledge. ;-)

tc: agreed!

mona: I know! It's a gamble, but well worth it, I think. I wore ones from Victoria's Secret on Halloween, and they stayed up. But, I only got one wear out of them (I apparently ripped the hell out of them without realizing it?).
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?