"Blunder Woman" started as a clever title, but now, really, I think it's who I am. Only without the cape. As Blunder Woman, my fashion taste is deplorable. I keep trying. Really. If I only had money, and a makeup artist, and a fashion designer, then I'd just be fine. Case in point: I'm currently wearing tight yellow pajama pants and a black tank top. I'm either channeling a bumblebee or a depressed hooker.
At any rate, I had one of those days where I just couldn't get anything right. I tried to look cute and wore this multi-colored sundress, which, apparently was entirely see-through even in low-lighting. Why I chose to wear orange boy-boxers underpants today, I don't know. And they were underpants. Not cute like panties. They offer support and coverage and they're orange. But not, dare I say it, sexy.
This little dress also showed a bit of cleavage, which I tried to be okay with. I started the day without a bra but just couldn't channel that hippie-unshaven-earth-goddess-mother that I think of as going braless so I also put on a black push-up bra, which is one size too small because I bought the wrong one.
So I walk up to the studio and catch my reflection in the glass where it was like I really had X-ray vision, only the only thing I could see through were my own clothes! What a pointless power! There I was: huge orange underwear, and a black push-up bra that made my boobs point to the heavens and jiggle, yes, like a plate of Jello. I actually watched my own boobs jiggling as I approached the door. I was transfixed...sort of the way you'd be transfixed if an enromous blob was coming to eat you, slowly jiggling closer and closer to you and you just couldn't run. Because you're incredibly stupid.
And then I entered the studio. Did a little narration for my demo, questioning, again, if all the money I'm spending on my business will come back to me...or am I just going to come off as some desperate divorcee with dreams of stardom and she's well-past her prime. You know, sort of like a character in a 1950's melodrama.
The engineers didn't say anything about my get up. I did catch a flicker of horror at my jiggling though.
Ugh. Maybe all this self-doubt is because I have a birthday coming up. Or maybe it's the moon. One of these days, I'm going to feel like I chose just the right outfit and said just the right thing and all will be well. Yep. Any minute now.