Pinky the Retarded Clown, At Your Service

Last night I had a lapse of judgement so extreme it resulted in a full-fledged early-morning outfit crisis.

I had carefully picked out the following ensemble and placed it on the chair by my bed:  A long, strapless dark pink flowy top.  On top of that I planned to wear a short, black 3/4" sleeve black shirt.  Cropped jeans that I planned to wear rolled up to just below the kneee.  Converse high-tops -- 3 different shades of pink -- and calf-length white socks with two dark pink stripes at the top, pulled up. 

One question maybe you can help me with:  What in Pete's name was I thinking??????  When I put it on this morning and looked in the mirror, I actually burst out laughing.  I looked like Porky Pig, or a five year old, or a circus clown named Pinky.  All I needed was a little pink cap with a pinwheel on top.  I tried to find a picture on the Internet to show you the image that came to mind when I saw myself.  I pictured a fat, chipper little slightly retarded boy going, "Wheeeeee!"  I couldn't find a picture, so I drew one:

Also, I am including a great shot of Porky Pig, since he and I were clearly on the same type of drug when we chose our look.  If only I had taken a photo of myself.  You would have laughed and laughed.

What ensued next was a frantic pulling-out of everything in my closet.  Another question for you: Why is it that I seem to have more clothes than Imelda Marcos has shoes, and yet nothing matches anything else?  Clearly I have a shopping handicap.  Put me in a store and I'm like a crow, just going after shiny objects with no real purpose.

So here I am, wearing the most boring thing in my closet because at that point it was all I trusted myself to put on, and I'm supposed to meet friends for drinks after work.  Damn.

As a side note, my co-worker saw me drawing that picture and said, "Oh, are you drawing something?" She came closer, and I don't think I even need to tell you her reaction.  OK, I will.  Laughter to the point of tears, and a little fear, I think.  I mean, we're sitting at work, answering phones, editing things, being professional, and all the while I am carefully drawing a picture of a chubby retarded boy with a pinwheel hat. 

Comments

[Jamie]

i just came within seconds of copying your pink fat boy drawing and making it my signature friendster shot! i stopped myself just in time when i thought "but jamie, do you really want a pudgy pink boy to represent you?" but, then again, right now i'm represented by pink cupcakes. so what does THAT say? and the description of the outfit sent me into a rage of envy. i suppose many of my dream outfits resemble those worn by 5-year old girls. what is wrong with me?? sometimes i get jealous of little girls wearing extremely over the top shit and i think, damn, i just can't pull that off anymore. sigh. wtf??