I remember watching my girls grow up and reach certain milestones of independence. Of course, having the three very different personalities that my lovelies possess certainly added to their individual experiences and the show we got to see. One of the steps they each reached with confidence was their development of fashion sense and the accompanying ability to dress themselves it their desired attire. I believe the phrase I heard most adamantly and often was "I can do it myself!" This was often followed by the middle one having gone into the hamper to find what her older sister had worn the day before and putting it on, wearing it proudly inside out and sometimes backwards. Or maybe it was the youngest, who dressed in her first outfit, was not likely finished with her ensemble should the mood strike her and could often be seen with an additional little sundress worn as more as an accessory than an actual piece of clothing. She was also the one that when it came time for school pictures, would fancy an antique hanky passed down from one of her grandmas tied neatly around her neck and positioned just right to one side. Or perhaps our oldest, the most easy going who never really seemed to care what she wore, if it fit, if it matched, if it was hers or if it was clean. She was so laid back in those days, I am sure if we had let her run around naked, she would have, without so much as brushing her hair. She was an artist, a thinker, a doer. She left silly, mundane things like what to where to whomever had nothing better to think about or do. That was usually me.
I can do it myself! I imagine I probably said that to my mom as well at a similar time in my growing up. I am happy to say that I have been dressing myself, however successfully, for about 43 1/2 years and although there have been the panicked moments of stepping into an elevator heading to a job interview or going to meet a friends' parents for the first time that I'd wonder "Oh my God! Did I remember to put underwear on?" there has only been one or two occasions that I have actually forgotten to put on the ever important undergarments or perhaps have worn mismatched socks. For the most part I have been able to get up and find something to clothe myself in and then venture off into the world with no additional help.
That is, until now. No, I didn't break an appendage that is critical in the process of dressing, and no, I have not lost sight, although some might say that may just improve my color coordination and overall sense of style. No I needed help to "climb" into one of my Christmas gifts. My beloved went over and above this season and spoiled me rotten with a vast collection of goodies including the Reebok line of EASY TONE shoes and apparel. Let me just say, these are something else. The walking shoes are not only acclaimed for toning glutes and hammies when I walk in them, but they DO NOT look like astronaut moon boots. I know, right? Then, just when you think it can't get better, it does....Now there are EASY TONE work out clothes that all but lift the weights for you. All Ihave to do is put these attractive pieces on and not only will my muscles be working out even more effectively, taking me down to the svelte body I know I have hiding somewhere on the inside...way, way, deep inside..but I will look really super while doing so.
The top comes in blue and hot pink and with sleeves or without. Beloved bought me sleeveless, hot pink. Who knows me better than him? And then these amazingly sleek feeling black exercise trousers. I can not wait to try them on and since it has snowed and I most likely won't be "walking" for a bit I figure what the heck, I am sure I can wear these under more clothes as I help to shovel the driveway. Sounds like a plan, right? This is where I should tell you that if you are eating or drinking maybe you should stop. Just for a moment, ok, now I'll continue.
I am standing in my under-roos looking at these amazing pieces of exercise physiological technology before me and start to formulate my plan of action. (As I type these words, I find I am at a loss to explain exactly what I was thinking but.....) I immediately realize, while holding the top and feeling it's resistance to stretch, that I probably do not need to wear my exercise bra. This material will not allow any movement from the girls, this I am sure.
And so, as I have so many times before.....let's say once a day every day for the past 43 1/2 years which is about 15877.5 times, I proceeded to put my shirt on. This is usually a very simple exercise that typically takes no longer than say 7 seconds, 8 tops, with arms going in the "arm" holes and the head going straight up the center through the neck/head hole. Most days I put my arms in first and follow with my noggin, however sometimes I just feel like being a little crazy and I go head first always ending with the same results: my arms out the arm holes and the head...well, you get it. If I am making this sound too simple it is not my intent. It's just that I am trying to illustrate that I know how to do this. Seriously, I really do. Or at least that's what I thought.
Here I am putting my shirt on..arms first...nope...a little too snug but of course, that's part of the selling point...ok...deep breath....let's go with head first..... uuugghhh! Phew! Done. That wasn't so bad..nice deep breath....relax.....ok, now one arm up and in...up and in.....argh..finally up and......in. Wow! This stuff is great! I bet I have already burned 100 or so calories and I still have one arm and hole left. After catching my breath, I put in about 7 minutes for this second arm until I finally gave up.
Picture if you will, me standing in my under-roos, which look surprisingly like Granny panties, half in and half out of this hot pink contraption looking mighty fine, but turning blue and unable to move past this stage of dress. Have I mentioned that I haven't even been able to pull this material down OVER my ta ta's yet? Quite a picture, huh?
My middle girl came to my rescue. I can only imagine what she was thinking as she stood there appraising my predicament. When she finally stopped laughing, she was able to help me with arm #2 and after we both caught our breaths she helped finagle the material down over my bosom and all the skin accompanying them. All in all it was a productive 28 minutes and I was pleased that the pants took less than a 1/4 of the time. Let me just say, had my girl not come to my rescue, I don't know where I would be right now.
I guess I'll eventually have to take these clothes off to wash them but I'm going to try to get just a couple more days of wear first. I'll also be sure to have someone close by to help with my eventual exit and then freshly washed re-entrance since I know "I can't do this by myself!"