A surprise email came in this morning from Nairobi. Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles! Committee member number 4 is back to Nairobi from far west Kenya, got my last draft (sent last night), says it looks great, has no concerns or comments, and will be available this afternoon for the defense! (Although it will be 11pm her time; she’s 9 hours ahead.) Yesterday, we thought we were just going to go with the requisite 3 members and press on. So today will be a great test of Kenyan mobile phone service (very pertinent since this is a main research interest of said committee member). I cannot believe that this is working out.
One issue remains.
I realized that the one Very Important Detail I had completely looked over was my outfit. I’m a bit of a clothes horse (what can I say? I’ve got a theatre background… it’s all about the costume). Having forgotten about the outfit was a new one for me. Maybe it wasn’t so much forgetting as not having time to think about it.
Once upon a time, in a world without children, I possessed a fabulous wardrobe comprised of gorgeous hand-me downs from my Mother’s exquisite professional collection (my Mom is the Queen of classy dressing) and beautiful suits that said Mommy bought for me to use for the various wedding-related things that happened the summer Paul and I got married (thanks, Mom!) I used these outfits for Every Single Special Event I attended over several years… until I got pregnant. I finally gave up the ghost this summer (let’s face it, I’ll never be able to button a size 8 blouse again) and donated or consigned the bulk of my professional collection (worn when I worked for the Government). I kept those wedding-summer outfits because they are just too good to part with. Maybe Kate will wear them someday. (Don’t laugh: a major portion of that professional collection were clothes that my Mom saved from when I was as young as Kate is now. And those who know me from high school know that I wore outfits from my Mom’s high school days — straight outta Grandma Betty’s closet — all the time.)
But today, in the here and now, I am woefully lacking in the wardrobe apartment. I’ve been a grad student or working in contexts where fancy dress is not appropriate for so long that I have nothing respectable to call on.
For the Bat Mitzvah last October, I bought a pair of dress shoes (the only ones I own… bright red patent leather flats that are awesome*), a beautiful pair of part-silk brown pants from Talbots (hugely on sale) and a fancy orange v-neck sweater (also on sale). I dressed it up with a scarf I bought years ago in India and pulled it all together to be just fancy enough for the party. The one issue… I didn’t have time to go to the Bead Store and make jewelry to accent the ensemble.
It isn’t the best outfit for a defense, but this morning I thought I could wear it, if I could finish the jewelry. I made a necklace weeks ago (the nicest one I’ve made yet) with wooden beads of different shapes and colors. But I wasn’t sure about doing the crimps on the ends and didn’t think I had the right materials to finish it off. My intent was to visit Georgia on the way downtown to finish it. But this morning, I had to play with it… so I took it out, decided to add a little length, took off the tape securing the edge… and dropped it. Beads went everywhere. No more necklace. *sigh*
What else do I have? I’m not even sure. The brown pants are the only nice pants I have. I do have a white blouse (really cool, ties in the center) also from that Talbots sale. But it needs ironing (it’s washable, but requires ironing afterward). This is a problem as we do not own an iron or an ironing board. Maybe I can go to a neighbor’s and iron it there? But will it even work with the pants? (It would be best with a more fitted black pant.)
Oh, and then, there is the issue of my hair. Which has not been cut, highlighted, styled, or otherwise by anyone qualified in almost 9 months. Do I even own makeup? I’m fairly certain that there is no lipstick of any variety within my entire house. I did give myself a little manicure last week, so at least my nails aren’t offensive. In my defense, I at least was thinking about my hair… I asked Paul a few weeks back if I should cut it, or color it (I’ve done highlights about once a year for about 10 years), or something different? I think he’s exact words were “hair? what hair? you’ve got hair?”
Bright side: I’m no longer worried about the defense. I’m worried that I’ll look like myself: a woman who has not spent an ounce of time or effort on her appearance in over 7 years.
*I have not tried on the shoes since I broke the foot. I still cannot wear the majority of my shoes and am terrified of the reality that these will kill my right foot. My back-up plan is to wear a slipper or something to the room and then just ignore the binding pain for the defense. I just have to stand in one place, so it shouldn’t be too bad…
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