Hi there!
It's been a while. As such, there is a lot of territory to cover. Below you will find the first part of my recent story. Stay tuned for more, later today. Let's get started, shall we?
ITEM ONE: The Magazine Party.
Last Thursday, Little Owl invited me to the 25th Anniversary party for the magazine of which she is an assistant editor. I had spent Wednesday night worrying about what I was going to wear, because I had already worn my lime-green shirt to work that day, and I couldn't very well wear it to work again on Thursday. And the lime-green shirt is, of course, what I wanted to wear to the party.
I neatly solved this issue by calling in sick to work on Thursday.
Lime-green shirt, blue-velvet jacket, pink/orange/red/cream stripey tie, and my glass-coated A|X pants, and my cute rectangular glasses. Quite dashing, if I do say so myself. We helped ourselves to a rather large number of free martinis. We looked fabulous. We danced. In fact, I had the dubious pleasure of being sandwich-danced by two girls at the same time which was certainly a first for me. I was frightened, but managed to keep my cool. I got through the situation with aplomb...at least until one of my flailing dancing-hands accidentally touched a stranger's breast and I shrieked at all of the girl-ness surrounding me and ran off to find another martini.
That would have been the evening -- except for the VIP room. After Little Owl and her other friends had left, I walked back inside for a few minutes of solo adventuring in the realm of scary fashionistas. I was leaning against a column in the aforementioned VIP room, when a woman tapped me on the shoulder.
"Ooh. I love your tie! Who did it?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your tie! Who's the designer?" she enthused at me.
"Oh! Actually, I bought this at Express. Not quite a designer, I suppose."
"Oh. Well...that's okay too," she murmured before turning away and talking to her presumably more name-brand friends.
Of course I had to call up the Owl and relate the story, and we decided that if ayone else asked after my tie, I was either going to say that it was a Mizrahi original, or it was vintage Christian Lecroix. Before I had even fully recovered from this episode, I am again tapped on the shoulder.
"Hi. Who are you?"
"Who am I? Well, my name's Chris."
"Oh. I'm Amber."
"Oh."
...momentary awkward pause in which I stare at Amber, hoping she will get to the point and ask me who did my tie...
"Why are you here?"
"A friend of mine works for the magazine."
"Oh, really?" Amber asked interestedly.
"Mhm. An assistant editor."
"Oh. Just an assistant? And you mean you're not a...a photographer, or anyone important?"
"Apparently not."
And then, without a word, Amber turned and walked away, presumably in search of more influential party guests.
Sure, I have been snubbed before. But being snubbed twice in such quick succession? I could NOT have been more pleased!
The way I see it, if I am being snubbed by people like that, I am clearly doing something very very right. I think I shall make it my mission in life to be snubbed by snobs.