A few things were running through my mind when I read this. 1. I should probably stop laughing so hard that the tears running down my face are ruining my makeup (yes it was a weird, makeup wearing day). 2. Good thing we just ordered three brand new suits. Whew. 3. Was his suit jacket buttoned as he was leaving the office? Did he sidestep facing the wall the entire length of the hallway? 4. Seriously? This happened AGAIN??? This was not the first time he has needed “emergency pants”.
I believe I will also add a new phrase into our culture. Emergency pants. As in “You have your end of the world kit ready to go but you have not bought your emergency pants yet? What if the world ends and your zipper breaks? It could happen.” Or, “I am checking my suitcase for my trip, but in my carry on I have some extra underwear and a pair of emergency pants. My yoga pants may catch on the beverage cart and rip unexpectedly mid-flight. Best to just be prepared.” My favorite (you know of my sayings) is this one “When my friend Claire goes into labor, her husband will need to pack the new car seat, her hospital stuff and a pair of emergency pants for himself. Hey, you never know.”
Is my husband the only one to ever need emergency pants? Have you ever had a wardrobe malfunction while somewhere important? I had one, which I will be glad to share with you because (a) it is funny and (b) I have no shame.
There we were, October 2002, in Saratoga Springs, NY, freezing our butts off. We had been to Paris that summer and I had bought what I affectionately refer to as my “France Shoes.” These shoes are very fancy, with big, shiny stones on the front of the black sandal, with a slingback. I got dressed to go to the wedding, and knowing it would be a little chilly, I wore pantyhose. It would be the last time. Ever.
I am so terribly bad at winter, I did not realize what a poor match up slingbacks and pantyhose make. So we get to the wedding and I realize I can’t walk. The shoes are comfortable, and my legs were warm but the straps of my shoes kept sliding down my heel. Darn hose. I looked like a Geisha with my tiny steps. I could not go on for hours like this and it was too late to go back to the bed and breakfast (with a sink in the room and saloon doors hiding the toilet, but that is another story altogether) to change.
I think that a normal person would simply remove the offending pantyhose, but the important thing to note here is that they are both a panty and hose in one. Get it? No going commando in thirty degrees, as that would just be too much for my thin, Floridian blood to handle. So, I found a pair of nail clippers in the bathroom amenity basket and proceeded to clip the offending “legs” off of the hose. While the whole garment was still attached to my body. I left the bathroom able to walk, while the sad, severed legs hung limply over the lip of the garbage can.
At least I was able to dance. There, I shared mine, now tell me… what is your best wardrobe malfunction?
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