Boy, I ripped Charlize Theron a new one! That'll teach her to wear a Cinnaboob dress on the red carpet because if anyone is qualified to critique starlets and their fashions, it's me.
Here's why. I went to the gym today. I always take a change of clothes so I can shower and dress after my blistering 30 minute walk/run on the treadmill (200 calories burned – take that!). I love to shower at my gym. Seriously. The locker room is clean and they have warm towels. I use their shampoo and lotion and q-tips and hair dryers and leave feeling like I've been to a spa.
When I pulled my clothes out to get dressed after my shower, I realized I had packed jeans and a dress. I thought I had packed a long-sleeved gray shirt, but it was a short-sleeved gray dress. (Let's not talk about why I had a dress folded up rather than on a hanger to begin with, leading to the mix-up. Skip that part.) I really didn't want to put my sweaty workout shirt back on, so I put the dress on with my jeans and running shoes and went to the grocery store. The dress is low-cut and I don't normally wear it without a camisole but today, whatever, bra showing, off to the store. Did I mention it was like 45 degrees and raining and the dress had short sleeves? OK, now you know. I shopped, tried to avoid eye contact of any kind and shuffled the groceries through the rain in my sassy outfit.
When I get home, I ask the girls, "What do you notice?"
Immediate answer: "You're wearing jeans with a dress. And running shoes." They exchange their what is she doing to our family? look.
Not Don walks in. I ask, "What's retarded about me?" (aside from my vocabulary). Immediate answer, "I don't know, but your outfit is cute!" He likes Charlize Theron, too.