Friday, November 4, 2011

Fashion Crime in Moscow


Whenever I get smug thinking of myself as a very grounded person with a lack of vanity because I haven't resorted to turtlenecks to cover my wrinkly neck, a memory comes trickling back, up through the hourglass that has already dispersed the sands of time.  

That is when I remember Moscow and the crappy pants.   (I must apologize for my public use of the word "crappy" because my mother raised me better than this.  She also taught us all not to say the "f" word which of course is fart.   Sorry Mom.  I promise that I will never use the "f" word in a blog title.)


 



Two years ago we took a trip to Russia with my daughter and son-in-law, who had served there on his LDS mission.  





We arrived in Moscow early in the morning after twitching our way through the long night sleeping on the plane.  After a shower and a breakfast of the best yogurt on the planet, I donned the first of my carefully planned interchangeable outfits, a staple of which was an expensive pair of black ankle pants that I found on sale for practically nothing, which made them even more adorable.  They fit perfectly and I couldn't wait to wear them. 




We set out for the enormous  Izmailovsky outdoor flea market where you can purchase  matryoshka nesting dolls of anything from United States football teams to Russian czars, chess sets, enormous knives and WWII German helmets.      

I saw myself reflected in a mirror and thought to myself, "Wow, those pants don't look as good as I thought".  This is when I discovered the chilling truth.  My cute pants were 6000 miles away and I had packed my crappy pants, the crappy pants that were meant to go in the donation pile to be recycled and sold to fulfill the life long dream of some other woman who was willing, as I had been, to wear crappy pants.

The rest of my day in Moscow I was totally preoccupied with thoughts like these.
            
Hey you... old guy selling chess sets, don't look at these crappy pants!  
They are not reflective of American style!

Hey you...6' 6" beautiful Russian woman!  
Just because American tourists don't wear stilettos to the flea market 
doesn't mean they always wear crappy pants!

I mourned my egregious packing mistake during the entire two days we spent in Moscow, even after I changed out of the crappy pants

My vanity. Both crime and punishment






11 comments:

Grammy Goodwill said...

I can so relate. I'm packing for a cruise and I know I'd better try on my clothes to make sure they're the ones I intend to wear. On a different note, hubby and I actually took some clothes on our last trip that we deliberately left in the hotel room so we could have room to pack souvenirs.

Sue said...

What a funny story. Sounds like something that would happen to me.

And I don't wear turtlenecks, either. But it's because they give me hot flashes...

;)

just call me jo said...

You are a funny lady. I mean that in every sense of the word "funny." I think you look lovely in the crappy pants. Russians aren't known for their style are they? They probably never noticed...

karen said...

Let's see. I haven't packed crappy pants, but I did pack a really cute tunic top when I went to Denver that turned out to have a totally shredded sleeve when I put it on. Of course I didn't notice it - my daughter in law did. GAH!! Travel snafus.

Marti said...

Ah yes, I guess we all have "the crappy pants" in our closet. I have a pair that fits ok when I first put them on, but begin to stretch as the day wears on. By the end of the day they are a full size bigger and I feel like I should have on a pair of wildly colored boxer shorts to show off above my saggy jeans. Every time I take them off I swear I will donate them to a thrift store after they are washed, and every time they end up back in my closet where I finally wear them in desperation because they are the only clean pair. But never again. As of today, I have 3 more pairs of pants so the desperation jeans can finally go to the thrift store.

Anna M said...

I felt the same with my latest trip. I was in Milan (hello, fashion capital) wearing the worst outfit I could have ever put on. Why did my husband let me out? I was self conscious all day next to the Milano models.

Except your black pants look fantastic. You make crappy look good.

Lisa Ricard Claro said...

Got to work once and realized I was still wearing my fuzzy slippers. LOL Not the same as crappy pants in Moscow, but I have to say you set the bar high for yourself, because I think you look terrific in the photo.

Holly said...

I have a similar story about a crappy bra that traveled to Yuma once.

Ann in the UP said...

You are completely "as advertised", and I had a great laugh at your pants story! That could SO happen to me!

The Bipolar Diva said...

I'm SO glad I'm not alone. But I'm totally envious of your trip!

Michelle Teacress said...

At least you can't tell they're *the c word* from that picture. ;)