I wore pants to work today. Black smooth pocketless pants with flared legs. Slightly hiphugger, slightly stretchy, very comfy.
On top, I wore a smashing peacock blue shirt, with collar and cuffs at a smart angle and little buttons that are rhinestone flowers. I think this outfit might be considered "in" for women my age. My age. I'll get to that another time. But I didn't do the right shoes. No stiletto's for me with witch tips peaking out of knife pleats. Hey, it's a hospital and I wear Danskos only. Can't go getting crazy with heels.
Once ten years ago I wore pants to work. I've worked at the hospital 10.5 years. The electricity was off at my house and my way of dealing was to up and wear pants to work that day. (Woo-ee.) I wore some black stretch pants with little flowers on them, and a matching yellowish top. I cringe at the memory.
I purposely picked Sunday for my First Day Wearing Pants. I figured there would be less ooglers and I was right. It was pretty slow today and there was a paucity of men. It took people awhile to notice what it was they thought was different about me. There were a couple male nurses in ER who still are not sure what was up. When it hits them I'm in trouble. I never did want attention centered on me (when sober).
Tonya in the pharmacy had baby rabbits when she saw me walk in with pants--furry little fuzzballs were squealing in space and flying up high, because I'd finally worn pants. She didn't ask me to marry her, though it felt like something like that was going to happen today.
Starla in ICU said, "You look really, really good today--you happy or something?" "Yeah," I said. And she stared after me as I left the room.
Terri in Family Birth--it took her three times of seeing me in the hall--finally yelled (It was difficult but I didn't duck or run) across the cafeteria, "Hey---, are you wearing PANTS?"
"Yep." Then she said they looked awesome. "Wear them again." And her dinner partner said my hair looked great. I especially made my hair large today, to balance my appearance, and distract the onlooker from looking lower. Then their other dinner partner said, "Everything about you is great, simply beautiful." They don't know what they have started.
I feel liberated. There is going to be a big dress-throwing away party here on 18th soon. Every single one is bye-bye except for the two black ones. (I specialize in black clothing.) I have to wait though. Cuz' just one pair of pants is not enough. I have to build an entire new wardrobe. This will take time, great presence of mind and tag sales.
My daughter, the 13-year-old who officially became a teen on September 21 at 9:50 a.m., has dropped her Gap jeans in favor of corduroy and denim skirts! All the girls are wearing skirts.
All my coworkers are wearing pants...me too!
(PS: After a year on the robot, I felt it was finally acceptable to admit I wasn't wearing pants to work--knowing quite well that the subject of pants and depants-ing is a big attractant for this site, and that only wearing pants in my non-work life was a form of rebellion--differentness if you will--best not mentioned.)