Holiday Party Oopsie

The hub had a company holiday party last night, and I decided to wear a long-sleeved dress I haven't worn since last time I was living in Illinois (1999), a timeless crushed blue velvet piece that I remembered as being roomy. Because I didn't need to buy a dress, I got wintery-looking silver and blue jewelry to match.

I told the husband I was wearing a non-slutty dress for the party, since it was the first time I was going to meet his coworkers. Have to keep up the respectable camouflage, after all. Good wifey.

But for you, dear blog readers, I snapped this picture of what I wore under my dress: a comfortable and classy-looking matching panties and bra. The picture was taken after I got out of the shower, before hair and makeup were done:

I didn't bother getting a high-quality version because I was, of course, threatening to run a bit late, but I rushed through my makeup and did my best 80s hair-scrunching tricks to attempt to keep the curls, despite the lack of humidity in this crazy dry part of the world, got my jewelry on, and put on the dress...

oopsie

And... ummm.... although I correctly remembered the waist and hips as being plenty loose, apparently I have expanded in the boob region more than I thought I had. I told you I used to be a C cup. That's really how much of a gap there was, it's not exaggerated for effect.

Oops.

I went downstairs and said to my husband, "Remember how I told you I was going to wear a non-slutty dress to your party?" and he said, "Yeah" and turned around and doubled over cracking up. "What exactly does the slutty version look like, honey?!? Yowza!!"

I texted that picture to my sister, with the explanation, "I told my husband I'd wear a non-slutty dress, do you think this qualifies?" and she texted back, "Wow. Nice rack, sis!" which made me laugh so hard I startled my dogs.

I called Mom to tell her about the debacle, because she can't get pictures on her phone, and she said, "At least you tried not to be slutty. I'm proud of you."

I salvaged the outfit with a silky camisole / tank top in a deep gray color which lined up relatively well with the edges of the dress, and actually made the new necklace stand out nicely. Besides, at this point, it was hilarious, so I had to wear it. There's a story in it now, dammit, I'm making it work!

The whole thing had, of course, made us run late, so I didn't get any pictures before the party, but this one was taken after the party, after a double dose of my vertigo medicines (thus the glassy eyes), while a YouTube video was playing in the background of a really cute armadillo giving himself a bath (thus the amused grin).

During the party, I kept the tops lined up a bit better than I did for this picture, but at least the hair stayed curly and the necklace looked cool. However, my husband's coworker at our table seemed so transfixed by my chest that at one point I had to check to make sure I had actually put on the camisole. Apparently the shape was distracting enough, even without the flesh...

The party itself was... hmmm, how to say this politely? Well, I'll put it this way: if you're going to gather hundreds of technical professionals together for an evening, it's fair to expect some awkwardness, but ideally, the awkward will come from the techie geeks unable to sustain small talk, rather than from the inability of the speakers and presenters to hold the attention of the crowd, so ideally, speeches and awards would be heard, and not completely lost because everyone chats with their dinner neighbors instead of paying attention to the presenters.

I started the party thinking, "Thank goodness I had nothing to do with planning this party," and spent the rest of the party trying not to think, "I could have planned this so much more effectively." From cold food and stingy drinks to moronic dessert logistics resulting in a 20-minute wait for sugar, it was a spectacular mess.

Afterwards, I called Mom and told her how it went. Her response? "You should have taken off the camisole, then nobody would have noticed."

Who's the Luckiest. Girl. Ever? Me. It's totally me. Because when I'm a thousand miles away from my family, and the only holiday party I attend replaces my festive spirit with a giant sack of snark, at least I can share it with them, and we can all laugh together.