I Have A Flower Headband

And I love it and I've been posting this photo all over the internets showing it off in all its beaded floral glory. Ok, not "all over", just Facebook and here. I just really like it, and I'm glad to finally have a reason to wear it, along with a reason to wear the second of the fabulous party dresses I got at Macy's this year. I'd take a photo of this dress, but it's all black and it won't turn out well. But it is an amazing dress and I love it and so does everyone who comes in contact with it.

It's actually this dress (see below)but at the risk of sounding totally conceited, it looks way better on me. (Those who know me well, know that my tongue is fairly firmly planted in my cheek right now but for those who don't recognize the new party clothing excitement-boarding-on-outright-narcissism, I swear I'm not nearly as big-headed as I'm going to come off here....). For starters, I kept the bow off to the side, and that plus the headband made it look more flapper-ish, which is cool. That and blondes just wear black better, somehow. Sorry, brunettes. You can pull off pink like no one's business, though and that should more than make up for black.

I also wore my black patent leather super-pointy party shoes with the extremely slippery soles for the first time in.....let's see....two years and seven days. (Catherine from Texas/Alaska should be familiar with them, as their long stint in the closet is tied directly and I fear permanently to her wedding). All in all, the look was great!

 

Moving on....

I was going to a Christmas party that had been Snowpocalypsed out on the 19th, rescheduled to the 2nd. I am nothing if not vain when it comes to parties (see Exhibit A, above) so it took me 30 minutes longer to get ready than I had planned on. That meant that suddenly I was in a hurry to get to the Metro, which meant that standing around waiting for the trolley or a bus was off the table, and really so was walking. Bike it was. 

Forget that it's 19 degrees out there, with gale force winds (wind chill--8). Bike. Bike is the way to go! What's that? More clothing? Protection for the feet? Bah--it's not far! Half a mile, if that! I want to arrive in style, not with a hoodie, some wool socks, boots and helmet and/or hat flattened hair! So what did I do? I went out in to the freezing [fracking] cold wearing nothing but that dress, some nylons, black patent leather shoes, the flower headband, some dress leather gloves and midweight winter coat (this one, actually, photo taken on a significantly warmer night with almost no wind, and with half the distance to go:)

 

Period, full stop. No hat, scarf, socks, helmet or really, proper clothing of any sort.

Result? Within one block, I was considering a return trip home for, you know, clothes. Or at least socks.  But I am nothing if not stubborn when it comes to...well...everything, so I persisted. Within 5 blocks, my feet were frozen solid. Like, literally solid. By the time I arrived at the Metro (10 blocks), my entire body was shivering uncontrollably, my whole legs felt like frozen lead weights, I had to walk propped up on my heels because the rest of my feet were in too much pain to come in contact with the ground and I was fairly well convinced that I'd never be warm again. The elements, it appeared, had won.

[warning: DC geography coming up]...

I spent 4 minutes waiting for the Blue Line on the platform at our above ground station in abject misery, mentally trying to figure out where the most Metro-accessible hospital was so I could get my hypothermia and frostbite treated (ok, ok, dramatic. I knew I wasn't hypothermic, but I was in real fear for my feet, no joke, they were a strange whiteish shade of gray and that was WITH the nylons that make me look slightly tan on. And my conclusion was George Washington University Hospital...on the Blue Line and all!). 

Finally, the train arrived, and I got on, took off my shoes and cupped them in my hands. The boys (err, young men? men?) in the seats next to me looked at me like I was nuts and I explained that I, like an idiot, had ridden my bike to the station and damaged my feet in the process. Turns out, they were both military and had training in such matters (as do I, but theirs is probably more recent). I wasn't about to take off my stockings to let them have a better look, but the color was telltale enough even through the nylon veil. Pretty much, the only thing to do was what I was doing and NOT placing them against heater which is all I really wanted to do. Oh and "you really ought to have worn better shoes". You don't say. So, really, military training for frostbite= fail (when it comes to public transportation at least). I personally have heard that the best thing to do is place the affected area against someone else's stomach (under clothing), but I was (a) not in THAT much pain (b) not about to suggest it (c) not about to do it if it were suggested. (actually, I lie. I probably would have. I was really, really hurting AND I have a proven (and medically observed) insanely high tolerance for pain...it was actually really bad.).

So, I spent the 15 minutes between King Street (Old Town Alexandria's station) and Rosslyn (part of Arlington right on the Potomac, directly across from DC's Georgetown) thawing out my poor feet. By the time I got to that transfer point, I was able to walk using my whole feet, which was an improvement, but I was still walking as if my feet were cement blocks, which is exactly how they felt.  Luckily, I had another 25 minutes to get to Vienna (a just-outside-the-Beltway Virginia suburb) to continue the healing process. It worked. I now had to figure out just exactly how I was getting home. I had visions of borrowing my host's (my ballroom dance instructor and new friendly acquaintance) shoes and socks, of getting my cabbie (ride to/from Vienna Metro to the party) to stop at a 7-11 for those warmer packet things, of taking a cab all the way home, leaving the Amsterdam at the Metro overnight (a bad idea from prior experience). Anything to save myself and my feet from the return trip.

I still hadn't figured out what to do by the end of the party when one of the Catherines from dance class and her boyfriend offered me a ride to the Vienna Metro. Somehow that turned into a ride all the way to the King Street Metro (the darlings.... though it's not actually that significantly out of the way for them, who were going back to Capitol Hill) which turned into a "shove the bike into the back of our SUV and drive you all the way home". Bless them.

So what have I learned from this?

"Vanity is the quicksand of reason","with men, as with women, the main struggle is between vanity and comfort; but with men, comfort often wins" and if I'm not careful "Vanity dies hard; in some obstinate cases it outlives the man". I'll dress (begrudgingly) for the occasion next time.

 

ETA: This is officially the most edited post in the history of The Freckled Diaries, here or at LiveJournal or GreatestJournal. I don't know what my problem is (I had two glasses of wine at 9pm and then Diet Coke from there on out), I just keep deleting key words or misspelling things or....who knows? Generally mucking up the post. If this has appeared on your Google Reader or similar 16 times, I sincerely apologize.
 

Comments

[Dottie]

Yipes! I will remember not to do that. I know the cement-foot feeling you're talking about, though. My experience was gong a a critical mass ride last January in 10 degree weather - temperature not so bad, but after two hours of standing around and riding slowly, my hands and feet were numb. It was not until I got into my house that the incredible pain set in as everything thawed. I cried like a baby for a long time and worried about permanent damage. But I survived intact. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. :)

p.s. super cute headband and blondes definitely look better in black!