When we got to the symphony Saturday night, Spouse went off to the box office to pick up the tickets and I decided to pop into the women's restroom, where it turns out, there was already a whole bunch of women with the same idea. Standing in line, I turned to glance at the huge mirror on the wall and here is what I saw:
A whole line of women wearing long black coats. Most of them had on make-up and dressy clothes, with black shoes or boots. And stuck in the middle, looking strangely out of place, one woman wearing a bright red ski parka and hiking boots. Yeah, that was me. I actually laughed out loud.
Did someone send all these women a memo telling them what to wear? How did I miss the memo? How could all these women arrive from all different parts of the region and be all dressed alike?
Admittedly, if I had given the matter any thought at all ahead of time, I could probably have figured out what the dress code was. I even have a long black coat hanging in my closet, a hand-me-down from Urban Sophisticate Sister, who reminds me to wear it when we go to funerals together. I could have come up with black pants, too, or even borrowed my daughter's hooker boots.
The thing is that I never ever think of this stuff ahead of time. It's been cold here, damned cold, so of course I've worn the ski parka everywhere every day for weeks. The thought of wearing the funeral coat never crossed my mind. I think I'm going to have to start posting my weekend plans ahead of time so that some of you can remind me what to wear.