Flashback Friday: oops.

In college, I lived in a coed dorm with some of the best girls I know. Our sophomore year we started a freshman girls' Bible study. I think we met at like 9 o'clock at night. (now if something starts at nine, I assume I'll be asleep by the end of it) One night just before group I realized that I really needed to get some laundry knocked out. I would usually sit with my clothes and get work done, so they didn't walk off in anyone else's basket, but sometimes you just need clean clothes. I was able to push my loads through in the basement laundry room, and went down to check on everything just before group started. However, when I got back down there, there was a strange haze in the hallway. I assumed some doofus boy had malfunctioned something. There was the faintest smell of burning plastic. What idiot would put something plastic in a dryer?
I went into the room and realized there was some smoke coming from MY dryer? Uh oh. This is what happens when you don't sit with your clothes. This is why I follow rules. I was pretty sure my load was all clothing. I pulled open the dryer and let out the equivalent of the Lost smoke monster. I started pulling out items frantically. It was a load of whites, for Pete's sake. That's when I felt the hot steamy almost-runny cream sweater. It was melting. It was acrylic and not meant to be dried.
About the time I figured out what happened, the fire alarm started going off. Now, imagine an alarm loud enough to wake up 300 sleeping college students and add about 50 decibels. I took my partly dried clothes, melting sweater and hauled my basket outside. I saw all my bible study girls after a few minutes. They had all been in our room on the fourth floor. The RA's were going nuts because this wasn't a scheduled drill. What could have happened? I still wasn't putting two and two together.
Folks started talking about smoke in the east laundry room.
Oh my dearJesusinheaven...please. I was the only person out there with a steamy pile of laundry and more in other dryers. Fire trucks came. We were all cleared to go back in, but not before most people I lived with were aware that I had just wasted a good 40 minutes of their lives with an acrylic sweater. Later that evening, the resident director came up to see me, and was surprised to find our room with 15 girls in it. He good-naturedly asked me to be careful with my laundry and gave me a Winthrop water bottle in case we had any future need to put out a fire. Since he came armed with a bag of them, all the girls in the group got one too.
So, this is what we learned:
1. If you must do your laundry in a public place, stay with it. You never know what those sweaters, sheets and undies are up to when left alone.
2. Only buy sweaters made from cotton. It's an actual fiber, and won't melt under regular circumstances. And really, it just feels better. I will not even give acrylic a second look anymore.
3. If you take an evening shower, put your hair in rollers, put on your cozy cow nightshirt and giant cow slippers...the fire alarm will go off. Yes, this was a separate incident...but they're all things I learned about fire safety in college. Because when you live on the seventh floor and are suited up as such, the boys going down all those flights of stairs will moo at you, and you'll have to stand outside for a while next door to the all male high rise dorm.

I'm pretty scarred from my college fire evacuation experiences. The most important thing is that you all can learn from this...right?

Fashion Updates-Dressing Down

From the earliest I can remember, I have loved getting dressed. I painstakingly chose my clothing for school pictures. I always had to match. Even when I thought purple and orange were a fetching combination...(ask my mother. I'm pretty sure that happened.)
As early as fourth grade, I remember seeing trends and wanting to give them a whirl. I think that that was the year of "city shorts" (for the fashion-impaired, those are knee-length shorts one would wear with tights or knee socks in the fall or winter), argyle sweaters and penny loafers. I'm sure I was influenced by my awesome mom. She was always dressed nicely, with fabulous jewelry and shoulder pads (it was the 80's. It's ok.) I don't think I even saw her in a pair of jeans until I went to college. She was kind of a dress-up lady. And I think I am too.
I had to dress down for work today, as I'm going to be packing up some boxes and sorting and moving stuff. It took me nearly 30 minutes to find a dress down outfit I felt comfortable with. I can't just show up for work in sweats or jammie pants, so house-wear is out. My body and blue jeans have long been at odds, though we keep trying to make a truce. I understand the value of good jeans. I also understand the value of good genes, and I did not reap those in the bum department. Tennis shoes make me cringe unless I am working out in some way or chasing the child on the playground. I feel like I have big goofy clown feet.
I can get into business or business casual with top, jacket/sweater and dress pants in about five minutes. Add another minute for accessories, three if Shepard is in the room, because the drawers of shiny stuff are just too exciting...and I have to make sure he doesn't eat an earring.
Well, I'm here. I'm dressed DOWN, and I feel miserable. Dumpy even. Winthrop polo and black cargo-esque pants.
So far, so good on the no buying new clothes thing. However, with a beautiful day like today will be (sunny and a high of 73 in FEBRUARY), I know that my spring shopping fever is standing at the door, ready to beckon me. I know that last summer I wore out some of my fave summer tops. I think I had about five that I wore ALL the time. We'll see if I'm sick of them when I pull them out. Spring and Christmas are my rough patches. When the flowers come out, stores just seem to BEG me to buy stuff, putting out the pretty flowy tops, short sleeves, cute sandals for my ready-to-pop-out toes...and the holidays with the discounts, sparkles, Christmas music and the sheer exposure to all that while I shop for others.
Buckle your seatbelts, y'all. I think now through April is going to be a bumpy ride.

Fashion Flashbacks and Black Week

I'm doing fine in my no-new-clothes-in-2012 resolution thus far. I count it as a month, since today is January 31. I went to Target yesterday, and forced myself to take a right into the shoe section before I was enticed by any cheap, faddish clothes on my left. I love looking at the little boy shoes, but I didn't buy any of those either.
Shiny week was a success! I wore something sparkly, shimmery or shiny each day. Mostly satiny tops, one sequined top (with a gray suit, so it toned it down), and a shimmery scarf.
I think that this week is black week, which is a gimme for me.
(mini rambling flashback alert)
In high school, I loved to get dressed. I mean, we were in the late 80's/early 90's...it was the era of tight-rolled jeans, big bangs, vests, palazzo pants, and black hats! I had a sort of rule...I would only dress down if it were raining...that's when I wore my jeans, "duck" shoes, and some sort of NHS sweatshirt or sweater. Otherwise, I was pretty much "business casual." I don't know why. I've just ALWAYS enjoyed being dressed up. Maybe it's outward compensation for low self-esteem, but that's another post for another time. :)

Anywho, my senior year I was one of about four girls to sign up for weight training. We confused the boys' club, including the coach, because it was a "class" for the football team. I didn't know this. I thought it was a class. I mean, they taught us muscles and exercises and all about weight training, but up until we signed up, it had only been football players. I actually didn't even know there were other girls signing up. I just thought it would be a good way to get a daily workout in.
Of course, this led to the girls in the class bonding pretty well. Two days a week, we got to go upstairs and do Denise Austin aerobics while the boys did football stuff. The other three days, we all did weights. On my very favorite days, we would go run on the track outside, and I would pass all the stocky football players who kept telling me to slow down 'cause I was making them look bad. (if you know me now, you are having trouble understanding this fitness-Shelley. Just remember, I'm competitive no matter what I'm doing)

One day, these girls told me that they kept tallies of how many days in a row I wore black. Really!?!?! I was up to 11 straight as my high.

So, this week, in honor of high school Shelley, I wear black. It's easy. It goes with everything. My black shoes are all my most comfortable. If I'm feeling saucy, I have red shoes I can throw on. And, it's really just a short step away from clean/ironed week as a theme--which will probably happen before too long. And if I have a particularly rough week, we might settle for "major body parts covered and socially-acceptable" week. The point of all this is not to create more work or stressful mornings, but to inspire me to USE what I have and to be creative. Always remember, a splash of color brightens up any black ensemble. And there is not a color that doesn't work with black...except maybe navy blue. That would just be a splash of bruise.