Confession : I have a girl crush. A big time girl crush. She’s way out of my league. I find myself drooling over her. Day dreaming about her long, sexy legs. And her clothes. Let’s not forget the important things here – the fashion. Because girl rocks it out every. single. time.
Be still my beating heart. She’s old enough to be my mother. Yet, here I am, drooling over her. Literally. I was.
TC and I spent our afternoon at the Cincinnati Ballet, to see my fave, and season kick off : New Works. It’s the one I look forward to the most. The intimate setting, at CB’s studio, gives a whole new perspective that you simply don’t get with a big stage setting.
TC especially enjoys the sight and sound of the scantily clad and breathless girls. I know, disturbing, but true. Yet another thing as I continue to age — my dad is actually checking out my fellow females. Something as a high school teenager I’d never thought possible. To those of you out there thinking your dad isn’t going to at least secretly lust after twenty and thirty somethings — think again, my dears.
Pre-show, I’m always on the lookout for my sexy Victoria, much to the dismay of The BF, who so ignorantly assumes I’d go for the hot young male dancers. So when I spotted her today, I wasted no time in checking her out, head to toe.
Per usual, only she could pull off today’s chosen fashion fait accompli. Who can sport double patterns — top and skirt, in the same color family and have it look Paris runway chic? I really don’t know how she does it, but she does. Looking stunning and edgy yet classy.
Actually … truth be told, these ballet events always have me feeling self conscious and like I need to bring it on the fashion front. It’s the damn ballet. People aren’t showing up to the ballet shlepping it.
So I attempt to rock it with le mode, but am continuously left feeling that my attempts are merely that — attempts. Futile ones at that. And that I need to immediately proceed to Neimans fo ra full wardrobe overhaul, because maybe, just maybe, Lululemon isn’t as versatile as I thought.
Should I be concerned that I now have enough Run Swiftly Tech Long Sleeve shirts that I can make up the colors of the rainbow? Probably. But the thing is, I’m not concerned. Not in the least.
Back to the ballet. It was incredible. My favorite, was choreographed by a kind of family friend, Heather Britt. “Kind of” because it’s my neighbor’s son’s former daughter-in-law. Follow that? We all know one another, via the fams, but it’s not as though we’re friend friends. You know how these sorts of things go.
Anyway. Loved her piece. All aspects of it. The athleticism of the dancers, mixed with fluidity meets a more modern twist on ballet. There was such a great vibrancy and pulsating energy throughout.
The woman sitting next to me, who was fabulous … so fabulous that I didn’t get her name, despite passing my email along to her — which, hello, how the hell did that happen? We were discussing the piece and shared a laugh over how much I enjoyed it, while she didn’t particularly care for it. She made a remark, along the lines of, how funny it is what one person likes and another doesn’t.
Perceptions. How powerful they are, aren’t they? Two completely different, separate reactions and experiences. It’s like this with everything, isn’t it? Life truly does come down to how we perceive it. I do hope she emails … I walked out feeling so rude for not getting her name. Plus, after having shared the entire ballet together and discussing our mutual love for and of Victoria … well, you know, I can’t help but feel connected with her on some level.
After the ballet, we headed to the mall. I wasn’t kidding about the inadequacy of my closest. But, surprise, surprise. What did I leave with?
More Lulu. I really do live in these shirts. They’re great for layering in cold weather, look good, and honestly … do you know how much easier it is to work out when you’re already half dressed for working out? Way easier. Bonus.
TC was his hysterical shopping self. Making many inappropriate remarks along with running commentary on anything I remotely glanced at. Which would prompt the following responses:
Too short {I never wear anything above the knee}.
Too trashy {just when I thought I had good taste}.
Too overpriced {have you noticed that retired people always say this?}.
On our way out, he pulled the pants of a mannequin, which had me laughing so hard I started to cry. He suddenly busts out with, “God DAMN. If they’re going to wear them this low, might as well go all the way.”
We left after that. Where upon I snapped this pic in the parking lot. Check out those clouds! Or maybe it’s just me and my unusual fascination with clouds.