Ahoy, Wardrobe Fail!

Sometimes it’s so big a fail…It’s awesome. Not awesome in the way that the person clothed in the shrouds of ridiculousness should feel elated and proud of her misjudgment, but awesome in the way that her fashion miscalculation makes my frickin day.

Let me paint you a lil picture. It’s Wednesday. And the media team has a meeting with some direct response sales reps coming in from Atlanta. They’re wearing suits. I remembered said meeting and forewent an outfit requiring leggings and wore something more business casual and less “rebelling against corporate America.” A certain supervisor, who was scheduled to attend said meeting as well, though…she did not. She was dressed as if she were about to head up to the Lido Deck for a rousing round of limbo before attending the Carnival Cruise Line Theater of the Stars Broadway Melody. Like Carmen Miranda on casual Friday. Like psychedelic embarrassment personified.




It was glorious. What could be better (or worse) than a middle age woman in tight white pants, ill-fitting flowered sandals and a sheer, flowing, poofy sleeved shirt with swirls of mind numbing colors of Crayola Big Pack proportions. The ultimate though is that this blinding offense to my aesthetic standards came paired with a head alarmingly similar to a red haired Billie Jean King.





Ah, the staunch contrast is mesmerizing. And delightfully hilarious. Oh happy day.

On a completely separate note, I have something very serious to discuss. Thanks to my lovely Sister, this has been stuck in my head all the live long day.

I’ve been screaming “It’s sho flufffyyy!!” in my head and giggling to myself all day. People at work are starting to stare. This is no bueno, people. (Who am I kidding. It’s muy bueno. I’ll endure the stares; it’s worth it.)

Also, a select few may have noticed that I did not participate in the habitual Top 3 Thursday this week, and it was really for your benefit. This week it was top three talents we wished we had. And we all know I would have prattled on for pages on end about my desires for:

-Musical greatness so I could spend the rest of my years on Broadway
-Mad dance skills so I could be a double threat on said Broadway
-Master time traveler so I could use the aforementioned talent to go back in time, make myself 18, go on So You Think You Can Dance and seduce Kent Boyd with my mind blowin moves and knowledge of the ways of the world.

Seriously. I saved you from taking a part in some major, major delusions.

Happy Friday, everybody!

Now I'm gonna go get my Marc Cohn on.
Ya know..."Walkin in Memphis"?
He sang it.
Oh whatevs, I'm headed to Memphis for the weekend. It's gonna be awesome.