Dip..Bend..Stretch...Tug...Ready To Go!

I don't have many chances for dressing up, being a full time mom and all. Dressing up means I go with the velour track suit to wear to the market and maybe some sparkly flip flops. Which, when you get right down to it, are sweatpants and thongs. So when I read "casual chic" on the holiday office party invitation Mr. Farklepants brought home last week; my mind saw this: casual "chic". On Friday evening, I was definitely the most overdressed person in attendance. I also didn't take into account that nearly all of the other guests were coming straight from work and were wearing their finest office attire. I, however, wore a black sheath adorned with silvery jeweled embellishment around the boat neck area. The jewelry I chose was a silver bangle bracelet and large silver hoop earrings to make it more modern and less Jackie Kennedy. Needless to say, I skipped the pill box hat. Just in case you were picturing that. And with the three inch black suede pumps, I was the tallest woman (and in some cases, person) in the room. I did not blend in. I was obvious. I took delicate care in choosing this outfit. I considered the party's location - Very Swankyville in the heart of Uber-Upper-Class where movie stars and studio executives live side by side. I accounted for the guest list - very importportportant people that determine how far up the food chain Mr. Farklepants can climb. He's up there and we'd like him to go further, thanks. My mission that I chose to accept Friday evening was to make the finest first impression. Which is why, I changed my pair of tights before leaving the house. I bought three pair because I'm all about options when it comes to fashion. I really hate to find myself in a situation with no where to go but with an unfortunate choice. In no particular order they consisted of: basic black, basic black with a pattern, and a silver pair because I don't know what I was thinking. They worked in the image I had in my head but at home I just couldn't bring myself to waste my time putting them on. I started with the patterned black because they were fun. After making my entrance into my living room and judging the expression on my sister's face and her "Weeelllll...", it was determined that they were not fun. They were wrong. Mr. Farklepants remarked that they were a little too "Playboy" and it just wasn't that kind of party. At all. Maybe they were fun; just not right now. This scared me straight into conservative and I went basic black. No. The only thing casual about my ensemble was the fabric: a comfortable matt jersey. And perhaps the practical flesh tone seamless thong underwear that are just orthopedic lingerie for your ass. Not sexy no matter how hard you stretch your imagination. The end.

All in all a lovely evening. I adjusted to being around grown ups and acted accordingly. I didn't cut anyone's steak for them. I did hold up three fingers once or twice when asked how many children we have; just in case they had trouble with the spoken word and needed illustration to understand. I have this many. I was friendly and positive. I held my own in conversation. I was not a wallflower nor was I a guffawing idiot that lacks a social filter and spews inappropriateness. I did not catch any part of myself on fire - which really is a miracle in itself considering my genetic clumsiness, hundreds of tealight candles on the floors and tables, and flammable fabric on my body. I enjoyed delectible Argentinian food that was prepared on an outdoor wood burning fireplace barbecue. The first appetizer I ate was a sausage sandwich. Stop it. I know your mind just went there. I know this because mine did when I commented to Mr. Farklepants that "this is the best sausage sandwich I've ever eaten". And I said it without being crude. Even though I really wanted too.