Those Crazy 20's: Airport Clothing Incidents

I traveled to Albuquerque and back today for a business meeting.



I overheard a snippet of conversation between two ladies in the airport this morning that reminded me of my crazy mid- to late-20's years. At that time, I was a young lawyer who traveled often for work, but was young and energetic enough to party hard with my friends and co-workers at night, with minimal impact on my work performance. (This is no longer true in my mid-30's, when I am almost always in bed by midnight.) Things were moving so fast and furiously, however, that I began to notice a disturbing pattern in my personal life.

I was working on a project in Dallas (but living in Austin) and needed to get back to Austin on a Friday night so I could attend an early Saturday morning defensive driving class (I also liked to drive fast--this habit survived my 20's). My oh-so-bad-influence Dallas colleagues talked me into staying for a night out on the town, which would necessitate me taking a 6 a.m. flight on Saturday. We were out until the wee hours and had a great time, which left me with only 2 or 3 hours of sleep before my cab came in the morning. I slept as late as I could and dressed hastily in the dark, then hustled to the airport. Upon my arrival, I stopped in at McDonald's, the only vendor open at that hour (strangely enough), in search of the largest Coke that could be had. When I ordered it, the kindly counter lady said, "Oh, honey! Your shirt is on inside out!" I looked, and she was right. Not only that, it was on backwards, too. This was easily rectified in the bathroom, but not before I blushed. I vowed not to let this happen ever again!

The very next week, I was in the Dallas Love Field airport yet again, flying back to Austin (at a decent hour this time). It was one of those crisp, clear days that are so rare in Texas, and I reveled in it. Not only that, I felt like quite the sharp-dressed woman, wearing my favorite black dress that was as hip a dress as one could possibly get away with wearing to work in a conservative law firm at that time (my old friend Odean called this my "Welcome to the opera, Mrs. Brezhnev," dress--I'm sure he meant that as a compliment!). I am sure that I strutted just a bit as I walked down the long walkway from the entrance lobby to the security checkpoint. I roused myself from my contented self-absorption just long enough to realize that two gentlemen walking behind me were snickering, perhaps even giggling. I looked around and saw nothing amusing. I even did the reflexive "brush one's backside to ensure it is covered" move with my right hand, with which every woman is familiar. Nothing to be amused about there, either. I shrugged, thinking they must be laughing at some inside joke. And when I reached the security conveyor belt and took my briefcase off my left shoulder, I saw that my skirt was hiked up over it and that the two guys had enjoyed a clear view of whatever sexy yet tasteful underwear I had chosen to wear that day during their entire walk through the airport. I couldn't even turn around to look and just hoped like crazy that they were not on my flight.

I felt really embarrassed about these incident until I shared them with one of the secretaries in my office. She shared with me a similar skirt story, this one involving her strutting through downtown Houston. Unbeknownst to her, her skirt was tucked into her hose in back. And she was wearing elephant underwear that day. Not this kind:



She was wearing underwear with elephants printed on them. She swears this is true. Whether or not it's true, it sure made me feel better!

UPDATE: My friend Beth's greatest fault and asset as a friend is the fact that she knows and remembers everything she ever learned about me. She has reminded me of yet another (better forgotten) clothing incident from my 20's. In this one, I was getting ready for work super-early and was so sleepy that I just dressed in the dark. I put on my skirted suit (this was before the glorious days of business casual) and experienced a momentary frisson of excitement when I realized the the skirt was looser than I remembered . . . I had lost weight! About an hour later, when everyone else was arriving at work, I was sitting at my desk downtown and, looking down at my outfit. I realized I had accidentally grabbed the skirt from a different (larger-sized) suit than the suit whose jacket I was wearing, which left me wearing a brown fitted jacket with a purple skirt! I didn't want to pass all of the people arriving at work while wearing my mismatched outfit, so I hid in my office until most people were at work, then dashed off to change into a matching suit. Sometimes I amaze myself with my absent-minded abilities.