I’ve had it up to here…..

Betty_Boop_Black_red

Or so I might have thought.

I have the best tribe of friends, so when they call me and ask me to step into their life to do something, to intermingle with their families, it is an honor, and one that I don’t take lightly. I dont want to disappoint. Yet, I know two truths, one being, that they know me and accept truth number two; “everywhere I go, there I am.”

Case and point.. today.  It all started a couple of days ago when my friend Kayla text me to ask if I could stand in by proxy at a family event that she could not attend and take some photos. With great trepidation, I said yes. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I always have that inner awareness that somehow, even when I try to hard… “I show up.” Last night as I mentally prepared for the event; set my alarm, charged my camera batteries, and laid out what I would be wearing it became obvious that I would need to stop at the store and pick up some nylons.

I HATE nylons. Now, if this were my event, my family, I would probably have worn dress jeans and boots, but since it wasn’t mine, and instead Kayla’s, I was unclear of what I should wear. Normally one could look at their friends style and assume that most her family dress similar, or at least be use to that style, and then one could just copy that… So, I asked myself, “What would Kayla do?

For those that don’t know Kayla, she is the hippest, stylish friend I have…. Her style however replicates a model straight out of the swankest 1950’s magazine. Knowing full well there was NOTHING in my closet that could get me even close…. I panicked… Digging through said closet confirmed my fears… So I landed on a black sundress and sweater with ankle boots.

I knew, as much as I hated the thought, I needed to stop and pick up some black nylons so not to horrify those who would otherwise have to view my stark white legs that would surely stand out next to the canvas of black. SO, I did.

As I stood in the store picking out black nylons, my eyes fell on the leggings beside them, Leggings are more comfortable for sure, I thought, but…. no, I better stick to the tried and true….. but I hate nylons, I could hear my little bratty self say… I could already feel them suffocating me. I envisioned tugging at them, feeling like a stuffed sausage stuck in its casin, highlighting the old muffin top. And then it happened.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw them…. Thigh High stockings. I could hear the little angel inside warning me against them, but the brat was intrigued. “the best of both worlds” I thought…. Whiteness covered, and yet some sense of freedom. Makes sense, right? Wrong, as I later discovered.

With black thigh highs in my hand, I head to the counter, wondering how I am going to get these on in the parking lot without looking like.. well… suspicious, and then decide to just do it.

With stockings on, and me back on the road headed to my destination, I feel empowered. I acknowledge that the “inner brat” has won again and I feel…. good. I arrive at my outdoor destination a few moments before the rest. I get out to take a few sample photos, checking my lighting, lens and become aware of my surroundings and how I hope to frame certain photos.

I see one car pull in, and then another, as I am watching I all of the sudden sense something…… My stockings are now not at all on my thighs, but rather around my knees… Not wanting to make it known that I am having a slight issue in case someone in one of the cars is watching I start to walk towards the other side of my jeep, with every step… the stockings slide. By the time I reach the car they are around my ankles. I get on the back side of my jeep, out of the sights of the others… and hike them back up, praying to God that they stay put…. They do not.

Saying now, almost out loud. OMG.. and wondering if there is time to make  mad dash to the nearest drug store for the nylons that I should have purchased before… my inner brat now completely pouting…. As I begin to move to the car…. again… my new stockings again slide south…. I am dying. Deciding I have time, I am praying to get to the drivers side of the car to make my get-away, and to return before anyone knows. As I start the car, Kayla’s cousin Chris calls to let me know they are less than 5 minutes away, all 50 of them…… I shut the car off and reach down and tear off the boots and stockings, putting the boots back on with no socks and the whitest legs you have EVER seen. Not the look I was going for.

I will be forever be grateful for friends who know me and think that it is part of my charm that things like this always happen, but I have had it up to here…… well.. there… 🙂

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