dressing for a matinee (lyn)

My sister Valerie calls and tells me that one of her friends cannot go to theater this afternoon and would I like to go in her place.  The play is RACE by David Mamet and of course I’d like to come.  It’s very thoughtful of her to ask.

Whenever I see Valerie I agonize over what to wear.  My sister is not critical; it’s just that she is always perfectly accessorized, beautifully dressed, and impeccably groomed.  Standing next to her I always feel like a mess.  She is also beautifully thin.   But at least now I am no longer 40% bigger than she is. 

I wash and blow-dry my hair.  My sister claims that anyone can do this, but I disagree.  Like wrapping presents, I’ve never been good at this chore.  Even with my fancy T3 Bespoke Labs 83808-SE Featherweight Professional Ionic Ceramic Tourmaline Hair Dryer.  Part way through the process I give up and it shows.  My hair is not quite frizzy but neither is it silky and smooth.  It’s somewhere in the middle.

I search my closet for what to wear.  I take out a pair of size 46 Piazza Sempione pants that I bought this fall and have never worn.  Too big.  Next I find a pair of black, cotton, Jill Sander pants, size 38. tags still on.  These should be perfect in about five more pounds.  I’m also pretty certain I had these taken in back in 2006 when I bought them, since the size 38 navy Jil Sander suit I try on next is a little big.  This too, has never been worn.   I’m starting to feel like Goldilocks.  Finally I choose a black Sonia Rykiel size 42 cotton knit skirt.  I conclude that size is impossible to interpret as size 42 Italian is not equal to size 42 German is not equal to size 42 French.  Looking at my old designer wardrobe makes me nostalgic for the days when I was working and could buy nice clothes guilt-free.  Now I’m avoiding going out to lunch or dinner with friends in order to skip paying an extra $40.

As I’m getting ready to walk out the door, I decide that I don’t like the way the skirt looks with the cashmere coat I want to wear.  I end up throwing on a pair of basic black pants that I bought this summer and had taken in before Thanksgiving, a white top and a grey cashmere cardigan.  A safe, but boring outfit.

I walk outside and see people in shorts and T-shirts.  It’s as if I’m a tourist in Bermuda, packed for a vacation in Canada.

I arrive at the theater and am relieved to see my sister in a cashmere coat (and her four friends dressed similarly).  Phew!  I’m not the only one still dressing for winter.  We get into the theater; take off our coats; sit down; and no one notices what anyone is wearing.

During intermission, one of my sister’s friends is talking about a mutual friend of theirs who recently lost a lot of weight.  I can’t resist adding that I recently lost 30 pounds.  One of the women says, “Really?  You don’t look like someone who has just lost a lot weight.”  She means it, I think, as a compliment, but it’s a funny thought.  What does someone who has recently lost a lot of weight look like?  Just thinner, I hope.