Gill is either going to shake her head in disbelief at this or cringe.Or possibly laugh. So hard to say…
Last night, The Man In My Life took me to a fancy dinner-dance — an event that he had entirely sponsored as a ‘thank you’ to his former staff. Realizing that this was ‘A BIG DEAL’ for him, naturally I wanted to put my best foot forward…literally. Since this was the first time I’d met many of his colleagues, I suspected there might be a bit of ‘chatter’ about my attendance.
Boy, was I wrong! There was a lot. He had told me that, when my name appeared on the guest list, people were curious. Very curious. He is a private person and doesn’t talk much about his personal life. Although we are known as a couple in many circles, he hadn’t talked about us with this group and we hadn’t been to the few events they have. So this was to be “The Big Intro”.
When guests saw the list, comments went around: “Oh! He’s bringing someone!” It was a great bit of harmless gossip and a source of excitement for days.This made me even more nervous.
I fussed about what to wear. It had to be right to correct a good impression– I couldn’t be embarrassing the former boss! Looking through my closet, I (of ‘ballgown fame’ in Gill’s terms) could find nothing to wear. My shape had changed and my ‘dress-up’ outfits didn’t fit. With most people my age, it’s putting on weight that is often the culprit. With me, the opposite. Some dresses I had never even worn looked terrible. I couldn’t find anything new in the stores. Having another look in my closet, now desperate, I found it! The perfect dress. It was a short black number with fringes all over — vaguely flapper-esque. It featured bare arms (as anyone over a certain age knows, a big problem!) but I found a sheer-ish black floaty top that looked great with it. I even found shoes that fit and were relatively comfy. I had to wear heels since my man is tall and I’m short. I must stand on tiptoes to dance or it doesn’t work…so heels help.
On the day of the event, I got everything out — including pantyhose. Whilst trolling in my cupboards, I came upon a pair of black patterned hose not unlike fishnets — only with more pattern.
“Could I?” I debated. I tried them on and thought they looked rather fashion-forward. Quite daring even. But then my mind played tricks on me. I could either go looking like a sexy French woman with edge…or a tart trying too hard but missing the mark.
I emailed Gill for her opinion. She didn’t get back to me in time. So I did the next best thing. I called my man. “Uh, you’re going to think this is crazy, but I need to ask a favor. Could you pick me up a bit early and look at my outfit? Specifically, the pantyhose. I can’t decide if I look stylish or slightly slutty! I don’t want to embarrass you so you need to help!”
He was first silent, then chuckled. I mean, what man wouldn’t actually like to have his date say she might look a bit too sexy for their date? Even at our age…
“I’m sure you’ll look fine,” was his comment. “But I’ll be happy to take a look.”
He arrived and I strutted around the front hall for inspection. This is the only time in my life I’ve ever done this. I am usually confident in my clothing choices and I have, if I dare say, a reputation as being stylish.
He looked, considered and finally ventured the opinion that he thought I looked fine.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to embarrass you since this is the first time I’m meeting your colleagues…”
“No, you’re good,” he said again. “”The only thing that I worry about is the ‘open nature’ of the hose.” With that, he leaned down and fingered them, taking close note of the ‘open spaces’. It was going to be a wintry night…so perhaps, from a health and safety point of view, perhaps an unwise choice. But, that said, I decided to go with the ‘slightly tarty’ look. Off we went.
As the evening progressed and we danced, allowing me to ‘strut my stuff’ and flash the sexy legs, I felt more and more confident. At one point, he whispered, “I think everyone is enjoying your legs!”
I answered, coquettishly, “I certainly hope so!”
Which all goes to prove you can be provocative at any age and have fun, even be a bit naughty …it is nice when it is appreciated!
A wonderful evening was had and, according to my man, I ‘passed inspection’ with flying colors.Despite Gill’s many comments about my dressing up, I hope she appreciates my efforts this time…and doesn’t roll her eyes.