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Posts Tagged ‘mismatched shoes’

Long before it was a fashion statement, oh, along about the time it was truly a blunder, I made a statement all right … by wearing a pair of mismatched shoes to church.

It’s been so long ago, as a matter of fact, that I still had children at home.  And a husband.  ;^-  (Thus, the reason I probably didn’t have a clue as to the nature of my own appearance.) (I spent a great deal of time in La-La-Land in those days ~~ it was a self preservation technique that I honed to a fine art.)

It was also at a time when I actually cared what I wore to church.  (I’m somewhat ashamed to admit it now, but it does make for a better story.) (Don’t get me wrong, I don’t wear cut-offs and a tank top to church, but this place was, well … I’ll just say, “over the top.”  It was quite the church to make a fashion statement.  It was more of a diversion than Paris in the Spring.  Showing up to see what the fashionistas were wearing was right up there with praising the Almighty.  You know.  Priorities.  One simply must keep them straight.

Now, I must insert here that my mother made sure that we wore our Sunday best to church when I was growing up.  It was important that we offered our best.  I understand that theory.  It makes sense.  What I’m speaking of in the previous paragraph is another man-made (or woman-made) warped sense of importance.  Oh, how we human beings can skew a perfectly good sanctity.

Nevertheless, I digress.

On said Sunday, I rushed about in the usual tizzy, trying to get myself ready, the children ready, as well as  answering the perfunctory Sunday morning question from the former Mister  (Does this tie match this shirt?) (No.) (Did it ever?)  (You’re color-blind, for St. Peter’s sake.)     ;^-

Sundays were not my favorite day of the week.

On this particular Sunday, I donned a long, navy-blue, broom skirt, (comfy…no hose required) and a flow-y black and blue top (to match my attitude) (AND covers a multitude of sins)  ;^)  … and a pair of navy-blue pumps.  Or so I thought.

After an entire first-half-of-the- service, singing and playing the piano (a longggggg self-imposed penance that I supposed would secure my spot behind the Pearly Gates) (Boy, was I wrong….)  I took my seat on the front row.  I let out a long sigh.  I let my mind wander.  (I forgot to put the roast in the oven.  I wonder if I can convince the Mister to buy lunch at the Mexican restaurant today?)  Sigh.  I crossed my legs to swing my foot in nervous anticipation for the end of the sermon.

Several foot swings later … Did my eyes deceive me?  No.  They did not.  There was a navy pump.  Good.  On the other foot ~~ a black pump.  Noooooo!  I blinked my eyes.  It had to be a mirage.  Blink.  Blink.

(Noooooooo.  I am DEFinitely NOT winking at you, Mister.)  (Are you kidding me?)  (Your tie doesn’t match your suit.)

And my shoes didn’t match each other.

Oh, horror of horrors.  THE fashion faux pas of the fashion faux pas’Z.

I cannot tell a lie.  I was in church, for goodness’ sake.

I wanted to laugh.  Why cry?  There were too many other perfectly good reasons to cry that I had skipped right on over.  Laughter would be better.  Yes, much better.

I covered my mouth with my hand.  My eyes began to sparkle.  I stifled a giggle. It certainly was the most interesting thing I had seen that day.  And I thought it up all by myself.  Oh.  That’s right.  No thought was involved.  None whatsoever.

Oh, who cares?  So, I wore mismatched shoes.  No one noticed until I pointed it out afterward, laughing at my own joke.  Why was I the only one laughing?  They were too busy sashaying down the runway.  I mean, aisle, viewing each others’ regalia.

I was FAR ahead of my time with the one-black-shoe-one-navy-shoe-thing.  I just didn’t realize it then.  I think that I may try it again sometime.  Just to see if anybody notices.

Oh, fiddlesticks. Who am I kidding?    ;^)  I much prefer the church where cut-offs, tank tops and bare feet are accepted.  I think they call it, “the beach.”  ;^)   The Almighty speaks there, too.  And he definitely doesn’t care what you wear.  ;^)

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