Yup, it was that morning. You know the one… your alarm goes off and you think, “Didn’t I just fall asleep?” You hit the alarm at least three more times and then debate with yourself if you really have to get up and go to school.
That was me at 6:19 a.m. Cold, tired, regretting the social media rabbit hole I had fallen down last night. Did I really need to watch those last two episodes of the office?
Anyway, I literally and I mean literally roll out of my bed and onto the floor. Crawling across the carpet in the dark, because at this point, light is the enemy, I fish around in my closet for an outfit like a racoon in a garbage can. “Nope. Wrong ones. Too tight,” I say tossing half my wardrobe across the room. Finally, with a solid yank, my favorite pair of jeans are on. I grab a light blue hoodie, create a messy bun, and I’m ready to go.
Taking the stairs two at a time I hear my mother screaming that I’m going to miss the bus. The front door is within my reach when I realize I’m not wearing any shoes. “Crap!” I drop everything run upstairs snatch the first sneakers I see and race out the door, but something’s not quite right. My left shoe feels a bit weird. Whatever. I’ll fix it later..
The halls are my runway. You need to know that in my mind, I am Gigi Hadid at a Tommy Hilfiger show. I arrive at first period and that’s when I notice people staring at me, and not that, “Hey look at that super cute outfit” stare. It’s more of a “What’s up with that freakshow” stare.
My body scanner quickly leaps into action. Clean clothes. Check. Body odor. None. Breakfast on face. Zilch. Okay, clearly this is just my imagination.
I walk into Chemistry and head to my seat. “Nice look.” Some loser calls across the room. And that’s when I notice it. Two different shoes! How in the world did this happen? I have a Converse on one foot and an Adidas on the other. Fashion fail people! I bang my head on the desk a couple of times.
My brain goes into damage control mode as I do not want to be known for the rest of my high school days as “that girl who wears two different shoes.” I raise my hand and ask to go to the bathroom, which is really code for “walk the halls and figure out what to do about this problem.”
The empty hallway brings no solace. I text my mother to see if she will bring me my other shoe. Our conversation:
Me: Need a 2nd shoe. Can u bring to school?
Mom: You left the house with only one shoe on?
Me: No. I have 2 shoes on.
Mom: Then you’re fine. About to enter a meeting. We’ll talk tonight.
My current options are as follows; hide in the bathroom all day and sneak onto the bus when school clears out, take my shoes off and tell my teachers/friends some kid took them from me, or three, say I am doing research on the most comfortable shoe.
I settle on option 4. Turn the whole thing into a big joke and hope a picture doesn’t show up in the yearbook. A couple of my friends are coming to find me.
“Hey what’s up?”
I point down at my feet. They both laugh. “Yeah, I guess I need to learn how to turn on the light.”
So what’s my fashion advice here? Number 1, always get dressed with the lights on. And number 2 be yourself, find your style and rock it like Gigi on the runway.
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