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April 28, 2010 / dcwisdom

The Story of Half-Slip

I was rummaging around in my underwear drawer today, thinking

pathetic!pathetic!pathetic! 

I don’t buy lingerie often; in fact, rarely.  The few pairs of panties that I own are washed over and over until they absolutely fall apart.  Then, I’ll go and buy more.  Same with bras and slips. I know I’ve worn the same half-slip for, probably, two decades.  Really.  I’ve just never been a real shopper, unlike my sisters, for instance.  Any, and I mean any, occasion to go shopping, and they’re off.

My sisters have been known to come visit me and take a look-see through my closet.  Then, they give me a most pathetic look – a look of disbelief and deep sorrow.  “Is this all you have, Deb?  Are you kidding me?  This is it?”

This is what my closet consists of:  One semi-formal dress and shoes to match; one formal skirt with no blouse to match; one casual dress; five skirts; fifteen blouses; two pairs of black slacks; seven pairs of jeans; five jackets; five pairs of flip-flops; three pairs of boots; two pairs of black heels; two pairs of heeled-sandals, and that’s about it.

About the only time I go shopping is for a funeral, but just before Easter, the retailers were having the ‘no tax’ weekend, which is always a great time to shop.  Kid #5 Mary, Mom, and I drove to the mall in Texarkana, all of us looking for some great sales.   Hours later, Mary left with 2 dresses, jeans, a couple of blouses, and shoes.  Mom bought two dresses.  I bought one jacket.  That’s it.  ONE LONE JACKET.  Oh, but I bought six towels, though.

It’s about underwear buying-time again.  I just never could justify buying expensive undergarments that you can’t see anyway, except in the privacy of your own home.  It’s not that I ever thought I wasn’t worth it, but when you’ve lived on a budget all your life, you learn to compromise and sacrifice some things, namely things worn that are not publicly viewed.

But, you see, this certain half-slip went through a pregnancy with me, and, as you can imagine, was certainly stretched to the point of no more elastification.   Did I go and buy another half-slip?  No.  I just pulled it up and hoped that it…stuck.

Years ago, our family was in the process of moving into a new town and a new church.  As many of you know, when you “join” a Baptist church, the procedure is for your family to walk to the front of the church on Sunday morning, tell the preacher that you and your family would like to join, fill out some cards for each person, and then the preacher introduces your family to the church body for membership at the end of the service.   There’s a short welcome to the new family, benediction, and then all the membership walks by to shake your hands and welcome you into the fellowship.

Into the line ceremony, there was a darling man, “My name is Freddie, with an ‘ie.'”  He warmly smiled at me (almost too warmly), held my hand in his warm hand (a little too long), and his flirty eyes bore deep into mine saying ‘follow me,’ and they began a slow downward trail.  My eyes followed his eyes, and there, in a puddle at my feet, was my unelastificated half-slip.

I suppose in all the excitement of joining a new membership, I never noticed that my half-slip just decided on its own to disown me.  HORRORS!  Quickly, I reached down, stepped out of it, grabbed it, wadded it up and threw it under my blouse and under my arm.  I could have just died!  Who else saw it?  Oh my heavenly days!

Over the years, Freddie has been a wonderful friend – still flirty, warm, touchy, but totally harmless, I know now.  Bless his heart; he’s NEVER once reminded me of that Sunday, but I know he probably thinks about it and laughs.  So do I.  No one else has ever mentioned it, either.  It was just Freddie’s and my private moment.

Thanks to my boss, Bill, who asked us three videographers to recount our most embarrassing stories on our way back to the studio Saturday night.  I had not thought of this one in years, and it prompted my memory of others that I’ll share later.  Oh, yes, there are others.

So, with this, Tag-You’re-It!  I’m tagging Nola at alamo-north, Sherry at sherry-unscripted, and Miss A at theunexpectedreturnhome.  If anybody else wants to jump in, please do.  Please let me know when you do the tag post; I can’t wait to read your story.

See you in the funny papers.

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10 Comments

  1. shawneepaints / May 4 2010 7:45 PM

    No embarrassing story, I just wanted to say I totally relate to hating shopping for myself. I get discouraged by the sizes, prices, styles. No wonder I keep the same winter sweaters for years!

  2. Glenda / Apr 29 2010 1:14 PM

    Hilarious story! I hope you’ve replaced that half slip!

  3. Stacey at Living by Faith / Apr 29 2010 1:44 AM

    Oh goodness! That is funny, but I can imagine your surprise when you looked down.

    In high school, I was in the color guard (flag corp) with the band. The night of our homecoming half-time performance, the skirt of my uniform un-velcroed and fell to my ankles. There I stood in the final pose of that song with white tights and my top which was nothing more than a weird onesie with electric blue bloomers. Nice!

  4. Miss A / Apr 28 2010 9:25 PM

    Dear Debbie,

    This story is a hoot! I will be trying to think of my own most embarrassing moment. I know I have a few somewhere in my memory!

    ~Miss A

  5. Vickie / Apr 28 2010 6:02 PM

    Hey Giblet – I would have paid good money to see that! This sounds like one of your escapades. I’m reminded of you getting stuck in the bathroom window in your drawers! I hope they were new ones and not OLD ratty ones! hee-hee!

    You are one funny lady!

    Does losing one’s bathing suit bottom on Waikiki Beach in Hawaii on one’s honeymoon count???

  6. Mary Humphrey / Apr 28 2010 5:02 PM

    I lost a half slip on a busy downtown Indianapolis street corner one morning as I walked from the parking garage to the office. Yep. It fell right down to my ankles. Funny! So, I am very much aware of the need to replace underwear. That particular underthing had been fixed and pinned so many times it was bound to cause an embarrasing moment, and it did. Ha!

    I have been busy here on the farm, with the business, etc.., but I do read your blog often. It is truly inspiring, Debbie. I often read late in the evening, while I am resting, from my phone. Such a blessing that we can connect this way. But, the phone has its issues, and does not always allow comments to be left.

    Have a great day!

  7. nola at alamo north / Apr 28 2010 4:20 PM

    Oh, count me in! I’ll have to think; after 53 years of living, I hope I can narrow it down to ONE most embarrassing moment. I’ll let ya know, it’ll probably post first part of next week! Thanks for thinking of me!

  8. Debbie / Apr 28 2010 3:06 PM

    No tax weekend! Is that legal? Does Obama know about this?

  9. Debbie / Apr 28 2010 12:11 PM

    Ok, maybe yours was white, or bone, or whatever (I reread) but the fact remains. Weird stuff happens to us.

  10. Debbie / Apr 28 2010 12:07 PM

    Giblet, we have a great deal in common. We have the same name, we both homeschooled our kids in Texas, we will both be in Jefferson in June, our oldest are girls, and now we are both Baptists who lost our black half slips at church and “Bill” our usher was my withness. What else will we find to talk about! This is spooky….
    Chicklet Deb.

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