Wednesday, April 27, 2005

The Emancipation of...oh...um,...nevermind

If you are expecting this to be a review of Mariah Carey's new release, well all I can say is that you are going to be disappointed. However, it is inspired by her new musical product,"The Emancipation of Mimi" which is also being heralded as "The Return of the Voice". Like the sequal to a horror film.

Even though I don't care for her singing, I scanned a review of the release and read where this collection of songs is taking her back from whence she came, allowing her to be more independent and release the inner Mimi, thus the title.

Release the inner Mimi.

What a clever marketing idea. This really got my little wheels spinning. If Mariah can find her alternate ego and capitalize on it, why can't I? I immediately set about the task. Who knows what changes it might bring?

So, off I went on my inner journey, looking for that alternate ego, anxiously waiting to see what it would be like. Who would it be? A suave sophisticate that will jet around the globe? Or a mysterious, maybe artistic type, ingiting the imaginations of all who meet me? I couldn't wait to find out.

I deciding there's probably nothing better to bring out one's inner Mimi than a good, old-fashioned shopping trip. That would be the perfect place to start. Not only would I find the "new me" but I could also get the wardrobe to boot.

It was a pretty warm day despite the wind, so I wanted to dress to be comfortable. I also wanted to dress for ease of making many changes so I opted for old jeans, sandals, a tank top commonly referred to as a beater and a shirt over that. You can see my Mimi is in trouble. I headed off to the local large town in our area and it was right about when I got there that I realized I had exactly $35. Hmmmm...this could pose a problem. Normally, I would just go to the Salvation Army anyway but what about Mimi? Would she ever find anything there? I recounted the money. Yep, $35. It would have to be the Salvation Army.

As it turns out, they happened to be having a sale of 50% off all clothes and shoes that day. Cool. Definitely cool. I headed to the women's department.

My first ensemble to try on was a nice little pair of plaid capris, a knit tank, and a sassy little cardigan. Definitely Mimi. I changed in the dressing room and, when I turned around, it was all I could do to stifle a scream. Someone had let a small, Scottish PTA member in while my head was turned. Oh, wait. That's me. This will not do. Back into the trenches.

The next outfit was a pair of actual girl jeans, a knit short sleeve top and a suit-type jacket. I don't know what it is - and it just might be the way I'm built - but it seems that women's pants are designed to sit somewhere right around the armpit. These would definitely not do. The jacket looked nice but, since I have the shoulder spread of an NFL player (and, mind you, it looks pretty spiffin on my 5'2" frame. Right.),I would only be able to wear it on days when I wasn't planning on doing anything that involved moving my arms.

I started to wander further and further until I found myself in the men's department - where, by the way, I did manage to snag a nice pair of jeans and a swell pair of hiking shorts.

I didn't want the day to be a total loss for Mimi so I decided to check out the shoes. Maybe I could find a ...um...cute? Is that the word women use to describe their shoes? A cute pair. Ok.

I picked up a pair of little black things with what, I believe, is called a kitten heel. Give me a break - and make it the left leg, please. These shoes have absolutely no structural integrity whatsoever. Are you telling me that I can wear these shoes and not only be comfortable, but not be a menace to society at large as well? Riiiight...

Let's have a look at the sandals. Well, if I want to go for the middle school look, I can get the ones with the 5" platforms - again, don't they have any engineers in the design department at the shoe factory? Or, if I want to go with the prostitue look I can get the ones that strap all the way up the leg and tie somewhere on top of the head. Nah...

Then I saw them. They were beautiful. I tried them on. They fit! And they were comfortable! And they would look perfect with...the hiking shorts. Oh, all right...I bought a pair of hiking shoes. Sue me. But it won't be for falling on you.

I did manage to find a few more things, plus a jacket for work, and then headed home with my treasures where, upon arriving, I pulled them all out to look at them again. Oh boy. No Mimi here. No siree.

A little later that day, I went to the local farmer's market (remember, the one with hardly any actual farmers?) with my hubby. I was still smarting from my lack of chic and it is this that made me act in such despiration. I bought sunglasses. Now, being the absentminded cheapskate that I am, I will never spend more than $10 on sunglasses. I will either lose them, sit on them, or both. However, if you want cheap sunglasses, the farmer's market is the place to go because you will undoubtedly find quite an array of styles to choose from. Quite an array.

It still kind of surprises me that my husband didn't stop me. I mean, doesn't he care about me at all? Doesn't he love me? Or is it because he loves me that he couldn't bring himself to tell me that the sunglasses didn't, in fact, make me look like Sophia Loren but more like Elton John in his early, more flamboyant years?

They are big and round and big and black and big. And did I mention they are big? Here is a picture of them. I placed them next to our pick-up truck to give you a sense of scale.
Image hosted by Photobucket.com

At the end of the day, I had to really take a second look at this whole Mimi thing. What happened? Where is my Mimi?

Well, as it turns out, my alternate ego is not in fact a Mimi at all. No stylish diva, no mysterious artist. No, it seems as though my alternate ego is actually a chubby, balding 60-ish guy that likes to sit on the porch in a bath robe, drinking beers and yelling at by-passers. I think his name is Gus. Sigh... Well, I suppose I could try only letting him out on the weekends...

3 comments:

anne said...

Rebecca-
My sympathies on the polka dot shirt. I feel your pain - I was a teenager in the 80's. On the bright side, I think we're about due for that period of fashion to...gulp...rear it's ugly head once again. Hang on to it.
I agree on the sweatshirts...they rock!

babs-
High five my sistah! I too have hair in the color I refer to as Field Mouse Brown. I just cut about 6 inches of it off because it was dyed Very Bad Shade of Blonde No.468. Now I kind of look like the love child of the Dutch Boy Paint kid and Paul Williams. How's that for an image?

I'm glad you both enjoy the posts. It makes me feel like the time I take at work to write them is well spent. Oops. Did I just say that? I mean, I write them at home.

Anonymous said...

I headed off to the local large town in our area

Perhaps you can post a picture of said "large town" next to the sunglasses to give us an idea of the scale. I believe Grier City can fit behind one of the lenses.

Of course now I'm wondering what it sez about my "inner me" that I actually read this post. Damn those queer-eye guys.

we_be_toys said...

Ok, I know you posted this thing aeons ago, but I have enjoyed your blog so much I wanted to backtrack and get to know you better.
So what do I find? We both have the same alter-ego! Especially the part where we sit on the front porch, drinking beer and yelling at passersby.
I know you said your sister was the writer, but damn, girl - I think you're way too modest - the plaid capri-wearing scotsman in the dressing room was priceless!