Thursday, May 5, 2011

Wardrobe issues and marriage proposals

So, I had a wardrobe issue in Las Vegas. Well, several actually, and God don't get me started on my shoes and how badly my feet hurt this trip. Well too late. Here's the thing. I wear heels ALL THE TIME. I am girl who wears heels. My flip flops have heels. I can rock the heels and they rarely bother me. Well, these are new shoes, Mandalay Bay is huge, and holy mother of god. My feet may never recover, and I didn't bring any other shoes. I am ruthless about packing. I only pack what I need when it's business travel. My feet...they won't even make eye contact with me right now. Pissed.

I had to dress professionally the entire time. I traveled in black slacks and a sweater, then planned on wearing suits both of the other days. 

Day One: I don't like the shirt I've brought to wear under the suit, and I can't wear the other one and switch things around because I had also forgotten to pack my jacket for Day Two, and so I needed to save the cute shirt. Since it would be jacket-less and all. And I wanted to look good, or at least feel like I looked good. I decided I liked the suit without a shirt at all, but it showed just a little too much cleavage. What to do. A little too much cleavage isn't okay at a work event with clients, even though it really was just a little too much.

Well, there is a sewing kit in my room...with a safety pin! Yay! Except it was the weakest most piece-of-shit safety pin ever and it just bent. I couldn't get it through the various layers of the suit.

But I was VERY insistent, in my sleep-deprived, perhaps a bit hungover state, that I wanted to wear the suit without the shirt.

Back to the sewing kit. 

Sidebar: I do not sew.

I got myself a needle and some thread and sewed the suit on me. Yes I did. And it was perfect. I got the look I wanted. 

I email my friend Chris this. We were chatting back and forth already and I told him I had sewed my boobs into my suit, because...well, because I was just a little proud of myself for using a needle and thread, and doing a little creative problem solving, and not drawing any blood. His response:

You “sewed yourself” into the suit.  OMG that’s awesome.  Marry me, Clare. Just say yes. We’ll work out the details later.

Who knew? Apparently, that's all it takes. There you have it. I have a marriage proposal.

I didn't say yes, for a multitude of reasons, but ya know, it's nice to be asked. It has been a while since I've been proposed to.

Later on in the evening, when it was just co-workers and not clients, and after the drinks had been free-flowing for awhile, I ripped out the stitching in very dramatic fashion on the dance floor. It was awesome...at least in my own mind. And then the suit was kinda sexy. Also awesome. I think suits are kind of sexy anyway (gawd I love a man in a nice suit), and a little too much cleavage pretty much seals the deal on the sexy.

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