Thursday, December 4

You'll see that life is a frolic and laughter is calling for you......

Confession: some days I dress like Mrs. Roper.

True Confession: I dress like Mrs. Roper daily.

Yah, I know, shame on me for not being truthful in my first confession but whatever.  I'm obviously working on it so give me a break.

So yes, I dress like Mrs. Roper and I'm both outwardly ashamed and secretly pleased.  And I guess if all my years of schooling tell me anything: I'm addicted because I know it's wrong, yet I cannot stop.

Why is it wrong? Holy crow, I'm barely forty yet I'm dressing like a Floridian retiree who clips coupons for Polident and then tries to pick up the bag boy at the Piggly Wiggly.  A bag boy who is trying to ignore me while he packs my cat food, denture adhesive, corn pads, and expired luncheon meat into first a paper bag, then a plastic bag as per my request (an excuse to talk to him really).  And then when I follow up with "can you carry those to my car, tiger" while reaching over to him with one hand liberally slathered in White Shoulders, I purr ~ which sounds more like a death knell thus permanently scarring this poor boy who is just trying to save up enough cash for an xBox.  Yet, I know I'll make it into his latest cheerleader fantasy because being The Roper gives me the ability to do this and I know how to use it.  Junior will be sniffing caftans and dreaming of a Walmart version of Zsa Zsa Gabor for years to come.  Rawr.

And that makes it wrong.  So very, very wrong.

Anyhow, I can't help the fact that I find mumus (mumi? mumues?) incredibly comfortable and liberating.  I never ever feel chafe from my mumu, my mumu never tells me that I ate one pint to many of Ben & Jerry's too much, and my mumu always loves me [does it or does it just enable me?].

But today I think I pushed the envelope.  Whilst prancing around the apartment doing some cleaning, ~ because if you are going to clean, you might as well prance, ~ I was wearing the most hideous (yet comfortable, oh so comfortable) of outfits.  And while a technically complete outfit is more acceptable than an undone nursing bra, I still should be a bit more considerate of my neighbours.  For today I took my prancing straight out into the hallway and down to the garbage chute (truth: the prancing was suspended, I walked like a "normal" person) and smiled and waved at no fewer than two of my neighbours.

On my way back to the apartment, the teenage girl who lives across the hall came home and while I waved and gave a friendly hello, I saw the look on her face.  The look that said "OMG, I never EVER want to grow up and dress like that".

And she was so right.

But too bad kiddo, it will happen.

Mark my word, it will more than likely happen to her.   And on that first day when she remembers me, it will probably be the same day she plucks that loose fitting, loud print garment off the rack and exclaims "this looks soooooo comfy, and it's only six dollars!".  And then she will think of me again, after becoming addicted to wearing this oh so comfy garment, for one day she too will answer the door wearing it and in her mind's eye, a montage flashback of all the major fashion violations involving unattractive loungewear will happen in a quick gut-wrenching moment. And there I will be, in my orange/black/turqoise/yellow/lime green goriness gloriousness waving hello like a crazy woman.

Perhaps I should stop scarring so many people.

Nah, I value my comfort over some poor kid's neurosis (even if I may have contributed to it) (omg, I AM an addict).

21 comments:

Heather said...

I may or may not have bought something I knew was atrociously ugly simply because it was only $1. I mean a dollar!! How could anyone pass that up?

Anonymous said...

I call mine gowns. As soon as i hit the door all clothes come off and my oh so confty gown comes on

Anonymous said...

"this looks soooooo comfy, and it's only six dollars!"

this sums up my entire pj pants addiction in one cheap and gory sentence.

petite gourmand said...

At least you are not dressing like Chrissy right?
Then you officially be known as the building cougar hussy.
though it would be fun to rock those big pony tails for a day just to see the reaction...

Funny post as always.
tee hee hee...

Shania said...

I must agree. The mumii rock.

Chicky Chicky Baby said...

No you don't. I refuse to believe you wear a mumu. Polyester stretch pants and a Christmas applique sweatshirt, yes. Mumu - no.

karengreeners said...

I absolutely never realized that those were the lyrics. I used to just sing, '...life is a rawrerlling' or something equally unintelligible.

If I were a Three's Company character, I think I'd have to be Janet, minus the bulgy eyes.

mamatulip said...

Three's Company was my favourite show when I was a kid. I loved it, even though I didn't understand it (it being the abundance of SEXUAL TENSION; they should have just called the show Sexual Tension). I remember catching a rerun when I was an early teenager and having it all make sense.

Petite said it - at least you're not dressing like Chrissy. *snort*

Ali said...

i cannot believe that you didn't include pictures in this post. i demand pictures of you in your muumuus.
:)

i'm more of a flannel pj pant and baggy tshirt kind of girl, personally, but i get you...COMFORT, dammit!

Anonymous said...

Darn it, I can't remember the official name of the garment, but it did have a name. I ordered it from a catalog in the early 90's. Picture this: It was shaped like a pillow case, person-sized; it had sleeves, was square shaped at the bottom, with "foot holes" but not pant legs. It zipped from crotch to neck.
It was lounge-wear, and if I stretched my arms & a leg out, I resembled a flying squirrel.
Oh, since I've started typing, I think it was called a Cozy Joe. I'm gonna google it right quick.

Zoeyjane said...

I believe it should be mumei, for the plural, of the latin mume, right?

April said...

haha, mumus rock. hubs hates when i wear stuff like that, but sometimes it's just the way things need to be.

Heather said...

The winter is too cold for the mumu, well okay, our house is really too cold for the mumu. I am a freeze baby and hubby keeps the house at 66.

The Panic Room said...

You know I live in Florida and we have this outlet called Bealls that I think you should look into. I mean you would be in heaven.

Mrs. Roper was like the horniest woman on television, I think that is why she wore the mumu for the easy access.

I actually think you would have more to worry about if you started wearing clothes like Mr. Furley.

MarĂ­a said...

I want a mumu. And I know the lines to almost every Three's Company episode ever. :)

Anonymous said...

I don't necessary rock the mumu, but I sport the jeans, sweat and sneakers daily.

I seriously, don't remember the last time I wore a dress.I'm only 29 and I already have a "mom unform".

I'm pretty I'll be well into my mumu years by the time I hit 40.

Marinka said...

You have the right against self-incrimination, I don't think that you should confess to anything like that!

nonlineargirl said...

I just hope you are accessorizing. White plastic is all the rage, you know.

Baby in the City said...

I want pictures. I dare you....

Patois42 said...

I just came here from the December ROFL post at Chicky Chicky Baby. Very funny, but I really need to see some photos. I don't mind being scarred.

Rima said...

Where can I get me one of those things? Do they still sell them over at the Sears Roebuck Company?

I was never allowed to watch Three's Company as a child. I'm guessing it was because of, like Mama Tulip said, the "Sexual Tension."