The moments you can’t make up

Have you ever found yourself in such a ridiculous moment that you are astonished at how oblivious you are to the world around you? It is kind of my every day life, but I'll pretend like this one is exclusively ridiculous.

We (I) was late to winterize the pool house and as the temperatures dropped outside, my trying-very-hard-to-be-patient-with-you Kristen, husband’s temperature was rising on the inside with every snowflake that fell.

I, being pretty casual about all things on the outside, was beginning to freak out on the inside as I called my 9th and 10th plumber. A bad indicator of a timely response to my need was the “we’re hiring” posts on each site. Finally I lined something up — total relief.

A few hours earlier I dressed to go into the real world for a bit of work, actually put on pants with an actual zipper and even jazzed myself up with a really special necklace from my hubby. Once I got home I quickly replaced the pants (okay, jeans but that is dressy for me right now), put on a zip up Hurley hoodie and forgot about the necklace. I intended on doing some PT and walk on the treadmill (not really the reason I dress like this, but I’m just putting that out there) and set about my day.

I realize, as I walk past my computer, that I had been tasked with the plumber and holiday cards so before hitting the basement in full Jane Fonda attire, I dutifully sit down to get the holiday cards done. Soon into it, I become totally ruined by the realization that the photo quality of the only pic with the five of us has horribly low resolution. I get lost in this task and soon enough, less than an hour before my “window” is up, the doorbell rings. I let in these two young guys and lead them around to the basement, pool house, etc. I then walk back inside and catch a glimpse of myself and fully take in my outfit. I have on running tights, a faded orange surfer zip hoodie WITH a diamond necklace, AND a camouflage fanny pack. Jaw drops, for real, as I am so astonished that at nearly 52, this is my get up. The only place in the world that this would be anywhere remotely passable is the Villages in Florida.

I would like to say this strange outfit occurrence has only happened once, but I find myself remembering a few years back in an almost equally embarrassing wardrobe moment. We had a client that required new plumbing fixtures, so after drop off on a freezing cold Michigan gray winter day, I went straight to Lowe’s — so pre-9 a.m. I donned my fleecy Carhartt khakis as I didn’t want to be found in a store in sweatpants (I know — like leggings are any better?), and was too cold for jeans. While deciding between two faucets for our client, I was approached by a guy who asked if he could have some help with something in the next aisle. He thought I worked there. I was caught off guard and explained that I was just another shopper. Then I wondered why this guy thought I worked there. I a little bit chased him to the next aisle and asked after him, “Why do you think I work here? Is it my Carport khakis?” I think he said yes back but clearly didn’t give a shit, I was no use to him, whatever. It doesn’t matter. I still loves those Carhartt khakis and haven’t been able to donate them -- yet have still never worn them to a hardware store since. Very scarred, as are the poor guys that showed up at my house today on an average plumbing call — WTF — winterizing your pool house in MICHIGAN in December? You win the prize, you are a total ding-a-ling. We are not even shocked by your outfit -- we kind of expected it.

I realize that I am no style icon. If anything, my clothing has not changed since I was in high school. I think I was called the gym teacher for a bit in college due to my love of Gap Khakis and sweatshirts. My sorority sisters were a bunch of dudes in a ski shop throughout my entire time at Michigan State (Yay Freestyle). I’m not saying I don’t or won’t dress up (because I actually love to do that as well) but my kids and husband will attest to the fact that the minute I get home, l whip off my “nice looking clothes” and put on jeans and a t-shirt (I actually do this 2 to 3 hours into any event we host at our house, as soon as I think everyone has had enough drinks not to notice). I also admit that I carry a second comfy outfit to nearly every occasion I attend just in case I start getting antsy in grown up clothes.

So I wonder now if it is important to be cognizant of how I walk around in the world. I mean -- I don’t want to look like some creepy Mrs. Robinson, however more 1970 or is it 1990”s style, but does it matter? Do people even notice?

The only end to this is that when I went to Ace Hardware to get a key copy made, I told the nice guy behind the counter that I would do some browsing and come back for it. He appeared 10 minutes later with my key and I remarked that I was surprised that he would know how to even find me in the store. “It was easy,” he replied, “you are the lady with the fanny pack on?” Perfect.

Oh My God — I seriously am going to be remembered this way!