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A ‘center of attention’ requires footwear more glamorous than Keds.
It’s entirely possible I wasn’t Mrs. Kill’s favorite neighborhood child (for good reason). When her children played games, if anyone improvised the guidelines, she said they were playing by Mary’s rules. There is nothing wrong with inventive rules, when they are mine.
Mrs. Doty was undaunted by my escapades. She said I had lots of personality and enjoyed my high spiritedness. Of course, she only had a newborn baby, too young for me to influence.
Mom and I went to see her baby and bring a gift. Mrs. Doty opened the door, wearing a beautiful almost-see-through negligee and mule slippers with little squash-heals and fluffy balls of pink bunny fur on the toes. She looked like a movie star.
Mom dressed nicely, even when staying home, and always had clean styled hair, but she didn’t have exotic nightgowns and slippers–that I ever saw.
During our walk home, I asked, “Mom, how come you don’t wear fancy clothes like Mrs. Doty?”
“How would I clean house, cook, and take care of you kids if I went around in a nightgown and high-heels?”
I didn’t care; I wanted Mom and me to look like movie stars, too. It’d put a crimp in my tree climbing, but the boys would have to be blind (hopefully Lenny’s eyes had healed by now) not to take notice.
The following Christmas, I asked Santa for a fancy nightgown and slippers like Mrs. Doty’s, but he couldn’t find any. He brought flannel pajamas and moccasins–warm, but not stylish. But what can you expect from a guy in a red velvet suit?
Fast forward: I didn’t forget my movie star vision. During my early employment years, I bought countless peignoir-sets and fluttered about the living room, with illusions of being a desirable and worldly woman. The mule-slippers hurt my feet and got relegated to the back of my closet.
Lesson learned: Do not bring a silky peignoir to a large co-ed friends-only camping trip. You will not get the sort of looks you planned on, and you will be cold at night.
Now it’s your turn: What outfit fed your fantasies?
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