Hey that's me... posing with Clinton Kelly, co-host of TLC's What Not To Wear!  We both spoke in Huntsville, AL this spring (not at the same time, of course). I nabbed him for this photo at the pre-program gala. "Is my black dress a good choice?" I inquired.  He commented, "It's hard to tell.  From the looks of this room, the black dress was EVERY woman's choice!"  If he only knew what had gone on in my preparation to get to this photo opp.  

 

On the way to the airport, I glued on a French Manicure.  Why would I do this while driving?   Because super glue isn't allowed on airplanes anymore, that's why. (Someone's afraid a terrorist might glue the pilots' eyes shut or something.) Driving time was the ONLY time I had.  Unfortunately, I did not get the full set applied.  Glue-on nails are the hurried woman's answer to appointments we never get around to making.  
Upon arrival, I threw my baggage into the hotel room and drove in search of a new fingernail kit, so I could sport a full set.  I mean, "What Not To Wear" isn't just about clothes.  It's the whole picture and going with 60% fingernails is like going without a full set of teeth. Duh.  

I found a dollar store, which was the perfect answer, because I had just twenty minutes to shower, dress, apply make-up, and nails.  I praised the clerk for having exactly what I needed!   Time to spin into action: I jumped into the shower. The shower curtain and rod fell on my head.  Dilemma: if I tried to reinstall the rod and re-hang the curtain, precious time would be lost.  If I showered without the curtain, precious water resources would be lost on the floor.  I opted for the latter. Cinderella (Me) would re-hang the rod and mop the floor after the gala.  I could not, would not, should not be late!

 

Post-shower involved a rapid toweling, and a slathering of  body lotion on my legs.  This was important because my husband had voted for the black dress over the black pants.  He said it was "classier," and heaven knows I am always needing class.  However, right below my knees, was the telltale sign of my 18-hour knee-high hose I'd worn since 4:00a.m.  Indentions in my calves resembled king-size caterpillars.  Knee-high hose, you ask?  Yes, because this was March, and Illinois is colder than Alabama.  I tried deep-tissue massage.  Jumping jacks for circulation.  More massage.  Heck with it, the caterpillars would be going to the gala.  I'm thinking, "WWJD?" (What would JLo do? Or Jennifer Anniston?).  But I was Bobbe White, and this is pretty much my life; one minor crisis after another.  Nothing life threatening, just pride-threatening.  So now, I was two-thirds of the way ready.  Hair & Make-up? Check!  Dress?  Check!  Caterpillars?  Check! Check!   Time for the piece de resistance: the nails.  I opened the nailkit and sorted them out. (Sizes vary for different fingernail sizes.)  I found the four I needed and felt like I was on the home-stretch. I looked for the glue.  No glue. What?  Nope! No glue.  I shook the box upside down, inside out and there was no glue in this kit.  This is not a kit!  This is a cruel joke.  How will I ever hold a glass with 60% fingernails?  If I'd thought about it, I would have at least made sure one of my hands was complete.  

 

No time left.  I quickly scanned my personal supplies for glue alternatives and the only thing I could come up with was lip gloss.  I mean, everything else sticks to it when you don't want it to.  It did not work on fingernails though, so with five minutes to go, I grabbed my evening bag and headed for the hotel-attached-convention hall.  A mere walk down the hall of about 3 blocks... in much taller heels than I usually wear.  Would the fun never end tonight?  My feet hurt already and I hadn't stepped foot into the party. Or as we say in Illinois, "My dogs were barkin'!"  I truly felt like howling from the pain of sprinting in high heels.  This is the last time I shall listen to my husband's fashion recommendation.  To heck with class, I will go with comfort next time.  But then, Clinton Kelly entered the party and to be in the presence of a real T.V. star, was thrilling!  And to look at my picture, you'd never know I was only 60% complete.  This would have been a good argument for drinking shots rather than sipping a soft drink, because I wouldn't have to hold a glass as long. However, I haven't don't do shots, except maybe at an Illinois football game, so this was out of the question.   I scanned the room of 500 women in black dresses, and a few smart ones in black pantsuits, and wondered what challenges some of them might have had in preparation for tonight's party?  I decided that, all things considered, I had successfully recycled my stress, because I was beginning to find my earlier challenges funnier and funnier, and it was all my secret!  Had it been filmed, it might be amusing to watch, since it all came down (literally and figuratively) at once.  For now, I was going to reduce my mind chatter and enjoy the gala.  I will recycle the glue in the next issue... stand by. 

 

 

Dress Your Best

by Clinton Kelly and Stacy London

Sincerely,