I attended a ladies’ fashion luncheon on Saturday, and I’m pleased to report I didn’t spit gristle in anyone’s purse.
OK, I did roll up my sleeves and fix a broken toilet at one point, but I swear I washed my hands before picking up my champagne flute.
The event involved an impressive number of amateur models of all ages, shapes and sizes mingling with guests and describing their outfits and accessories. Near the end of the show, a petite fifty-something model strode out in a saucy red dress no twenty-something in that room could have worn half as stunningly.
You could tell it wasn’t the sort of thing she’d normally wear, but she was rockin’ it. When I told her she looked beautiful, she leaned close and addressed me in a conspiratorial whisper.
“This is the dress you wear when you’re meeting your ex and his new girlfriend for the first time.”
I loved her for saying that. Not that I have a fervent desire to strut around in a red dress in front of any exes, but I appreciate the sentiment.
Deep down, don’t we all have someone we hope we run into on a very good hair day? Haven’t we all entertained a fantasy that someone will just happen to skim the New York Times bestseller list on the day our name appears?
Not that revenge or a desire to show someone up is the best motive to fuel a workout regimen, a career, or a writing goal, but it’s not the worst, either.
No need to name names, but is there someone you desperately hope witnesses your successes someday? Do you picture yourself in your saucy red dress signing books hand-over-fist when that someone just happens to walk by?
OK, you male readers can stop picturing yourself in the red dress now. Boxer briefs and a bowtie, perhaps?
I’d go to any book signing by an author dressed like that. I’d also fix the toilet if you needed me to. That’s just the kind of lady I am.