Kentucky Derby and the evil eye

Do you ever find yourself out and about, shopping for a tank top that doesn’t don a stain from red wine (whoops, had a little too much!) and walk in with a coffee stain on the current shirt? Buying a box of tampons knowing you’re going to get the Super Plus and throw in chapstick to ease the checkout process? Or how about the personal favorite, picking up laxatives and find yourself being sized up by a clerk at the store or a fellow shopper?

Quick story: One night I had gone over to a boyfriend’s house to find him laying on the couch looking like he was in serious pain. He started complaining about spending the day with clients, blah blah blah and then got to the root of the bellyache. He was constipated. Not the typical conversation you want to have, and obviously he was too pained to care. He asked me to buy something that would ‘help him out.’ Like a good girlfriend I got up, went to the pharmacy and got laxatives and to be a smarty pants picked up an enema box and a few other items (i.e. chewable chocolate laxatives) as a ribbing for making me go out for the purchases. As soon as I got back to his house, handed him the bag and was getting ready to leave he shouted back. “Thank god you had to buy that.” What a wimp, but I did get looks at the store (especially during the checkout) and fell into a hilarious discussion with the pharmacist on which tablet was the best to take. No big deal.

A friend asked several people to help out and model some of her clothes for an event over the weekend. This is nothing too big; it’s a selling point in getting people into her store. I was one of those people, and with the help of zero coffee (uh oh) and two mimosas (thank god, but still uh oh no coffee)the first set of clothes and a strut went out on the floor gracefully. I noticed a few other people working the crowd, some of which were two women wearing massive Kentucky Derby style hats. They were gorgeous, perfect for a royal wedding. Things may turn nasty.

After shutting down the men’s washroom for a quick dressing change, because there was absolutely no way I was going to flash the derrière to the bar staff and an incredibly handsome host. Now had they offered a cup of coffee well then I’d flash them a whole lot more, it could have been like Mardi Gras. But no luck so into the washroom it was.

The second wardrobe set was paying homage to the 1920’s with a modern twist. I was in a silky flapper-inspired slip with a shimmery tank over, high heels and nothing other than a gorgeous hat. A hat one would wear to the Kentucky Derby. A royal wedding. It can’t be too bad right? Styles are different, this is more classic, vintage. Shoot.

Dressed and ready to mingle, a friend and I paired up and again started walking through the sea of manicured gossip networkers only to stop at a table of potential new clients. My friend turned to me and whispered that I was getting a death kill look from one of the other hat ladies. Naturally what do you do?

{Courtesy of Google}

Look at the other hat ladies. You could practically hear the hiss coming from across the room. Almost in unison, both women glared at me and that’s when it happened. I got the lookdown. It was disturbing. Worse than getting the pat down at the airport or entering an arena. Those women were eyeing me up and down from across the room and they did not like what they were seeing.

The mimosas did their trick, because lord knows where the confidence came from to not flee. All I did was smile at them and then lean into the group my friend had been talking to just a minute before and joined in on the conversation.

This happens all of the time with women. The eyes go up and down and rank another person out from top to bottom. Brand to thread. It’s like reading the cover of a book and saying-yes or no in a split second. Those ladies were pissed, none too pleased, and what can I say. It was great. The hat got complimented, the fringe on the slip stole a few glances and created several clients and did I once do a look-down at those women?

Nope, without thinking I complimented their hats when they walked in before the show even started. What an idiot. I didn’t even think for a minute that they would have taken offense, this I blame on the lack of coffee to which lead to the loss of a proper thought process. Talk about blonde moment for putting your foot in your mouth, but at least it looked good.