Dressing Up & Going Out
So, I was explaining to my companion today how hard it is for me sometimes to be better'n everybody else at parties because I don't normally (or naturally) wear fishnet stockings and little pointy boots and hiphugging skirts with tight little sweaters over even tighter push-up bras.
It's quite an effort, actually. But due to some sort of bizarre oneupmanship syndrome, I cannot not do it.
Anyway, I don't expect others to do it, too, I'm not like that about it. It's just something I have to do. At this point he interjected helpfully that it's a good thing others don't do this oneupmanship thing, too, because then I'd have to up the ante to absolutely painful getups to look just that much better. You know, higher skinny heels with even pointier toes, tighter thighhugging skirts so I can barely walk, actual fish net stockings with lures and hooks dangling off them for that "fresh catch" look no one else thought to go for. Until, one evening, there she is with a couple of cod dangling from her garter.
But I said, no, that if everybody else started trying too hard, I'd just do the reverse and show up in baggy old flannel pajamas, running shoes, face all scrubbed clean and ready for bed. Glasses. Maybe bring a bag to fill with goodies from the buffet table. Oh, and I'd have a sign explaining what I do for a living, "Typical Office Drone", so I wouldn't have to bother talking about my job, trying oh so hard to make it sound more interesting than it is and another sign explaining my marital status "Happily Married", so I wouldn't have to justify my living arrangements to strangers - not that strangers want to hear about my marital status anyway, I just feel compelled to go on and on about it, to explain myself to all and sundry thereby justifying my continued existence on the planet to people who never thought to question it but probably do after they've met me at a party.
