Pencil Skirt Project Aborted

You know when you’ve got an idea or a plan and as the peak of genius is almost there – you get learned.

My thoughts:

‘Finally its Sunday. I should look forward to this for more humble reasons, but sometimes that bores me. So I’ll just admit to myself, I’m excited because I get to wear my new pencil skirt. It’s definitely a subtle way of looking too good for church.'

The tactic, or my “project” was to look like an intelligent girl that can’t help but look this sassy. So sue me Relief Society Prez. The gurl can’t help it.
So good in fact, that no one will say it because it will be embarrassingly obvious.
So I walk up the stairs to Sunday school in my black suede heels...

“New dress? It's nice.“

“What. “ – ‘ugh, thanks’

“I just said you look nice.”

“Yea, I heard. “ ‘gee whiz kid, don’t ‘you read my blog?’ Wait. NOT EVERYONE reads your blog, Hannah. You have got to stop thinking that. Well if he did, he’d know that….’

And then she walked by.

He said nothing to her. In turn giving her the better compliment because he was too stunned to speak.

A grey pencil skirt from Express. Just like mine. But not.

She had it fitted so that there were stretch ripples where the hip joint met her torso. And the same slit that I had in my skirt was actually serving her a purpose as she walked.

I learned that this slit is helpful because the skirt is suppose to be tight, and when walking it gives you room to stride while you strut. Slit stride strut - genius engineering.

Just like a little girl with my toes turned in, I looked down and for the first time realized that my skirt looked like a rectangle. No ripples at the hip joint. As straight as a line could be. And one worthless slit in the back.
‘Ugh. Pencil Skirt Project Aborted. ‘
I had been blown out of the water. A woman’s silent war. If it had been a cartoon I would have pulled out a white flag from my purse and waved it above my head. But I didn't have to because it said it all when my Relief Society President said, "Oh that's cute." Oh how I failed.

I came home and bitterly threw that thing in dryer.

Then just to test it before my blind arrogance got away with me a second time, I held the slit together with one hand while turning my neck to watch myself walk away from the full length mirror. Unfortunately, I had zero trouble putting one foot in front of the other. ‘I need restricted stride,' I thought.

So I cut out a picture of a Victoria Secret Model wearing a similar outfit, stuck that sorry skirt in a bag and drove to the Eurpopean Taylor’s on Unitversity Avenue.

I walked in to see some white purple transparent hairdo poking up over a counter.

I was afraid of this. But I proceeded anyways.

I held up my bag over the counter in one hand with the Victoria Secret clipping in the other and said, “ I need THIS, to look like THIS. On ME. Can you do that?”
She stood up, looked me over head to toe with squinty eyes. And when I noticed she was almost my same height, I realized what a Tall order I was asking.
“Just try.”, I said.