Everything went right - but me

OK, the Michigan Girl luncheon is over and probably the only disaster was my hair, lip and outfit.

It started about a month ago.

I bought four different pink blazers. They all made me look like Perimenopause Barbie. Two things happened. 1. I found one that was a muted pink that was not too over the top, thankfully, and 2. I went on that diet I’ve been swearing I needed to go on.

I put it out of my mind for the next month and just cut calories where I could. I also suffered a major bout of food poisoning about a week before the luncheon, and the thought crossed my mind: Maybe I’ve lost weight. I should recheck that blazer.

But I had steamed it and hung it up. It was ready and waiting. I did not want to revisit the pink Barbie chaos again.

Then, 3 days ago, I decided to burn the hair off my upper lip. I pulled out an ancient tube of cream, squished it around with my fingers, asked ChatGPT when these things expire, and it said 12 to 24 months. I figured I hadn’t been a lumberjack for more than a year at this point, so I squeezed it out and gave myself a white mustache.

My lip instantly caught fire.

I thought, geez, I forgot how much this hurts.

Maybe 30 seconds later I thought IS there a chemical burn happening? Within another half second, I decided yes, indeed there was, and scrambled to wipe it off.

I had a burn on my lip. But no hair.

ChatGPT assured me it should heal in three days.

I had two.

Then, I decided to get a haircut. I needed my roots done anyway and there’s nothing like an event to make you feel like your hair is too long…

When I looked in the mirror the next day, I decided it was too short. I love my hairdresser and she really could not have picked the right length for me under these conditions. Too long, just right - I’d still be writing this column.

I tried using a curling iron on it, which only made it shorter and wider. I had 24 hours to go. I prayed for collagen to arrive in the night.

Now back to that blazer. I got on the scale the day before the luncheon and noticed I was down 6 pounds! I had been very sick for a week, plus three or four weeks of trying not to eat Milky Ways. It fell short of the 20 pounds I wanted to lose in 30 days, but I was pleasantly surprised.

Until I stood in the big stall in the Hagerty bathroom.

I had just finished setting up the room for almost 100 women. I was on a high. Everything was coming together. It was going to be excellent! I went into my makeshift dressing room and put on that pink blazer with pride.

And so began my afternoon swim.

I’m not saying I was skinny. This would be a whole different story if I was amazed with my svelte figure. I’m saying, I was now wearing the wrong size.

I panicked. But I had no choice. We were 30 minutes from go time and where exactly was I going to get an outfit in the bathroom at the Hagerty Center?

I walked out of the stall and addressed myself in the mirror.

It got worse.

I had planned to button the blazer and had this white tank shell thing going underneath it. It only had a liner maybe down to the belly button, so the bottom half of the shirt was a little more transparent. I didn’t think much of it because I was going to button the blazer.

Well, buttoning the blazer made me look like I was a homemade robot. So I decided to leave the blazer open - a classic 1980s oversized with shoulder pads vibe, perhaps? - hoping nobody would notice.

Today, I saw the pictures.

I’m clearly wearing a midriff white tank top under a giant pink blazer.

Why did nobody stop me?

More bad news: my hair was still very slippery from all the wonderful products at the salon and my hair clip had fallen almost off the back of my head. And my hair had decided to part in the middle, whereas normally I pull it straight back… I looked like an AI Amish version of myself.

Why did nobody tell me?

Alas, it was a fashion disaster on all fronts. Yes, the event went well, but I spent most of the lunch playing dress up in my mother’s clothes. All that was missing was a giant pair of high heels.

I can only hope at future luncheons that I get a better sense of cosmetics and fashion. It certainly can’t get much worse.

P.S. My hair looks perfect today, my lip is entirely healed, and I’ve regained the 6 pounds.

Kandace

Kandace Chapple, writer and founder of Michigan Girl

I am a writer from Northern Michigan. For the last 25 years, I have hosted women’s events, published a regional women’s magazine and am always writing about life, loss and shenanigans. I am the founder of Michigan Girl, a community platform with more than 3,600 Facebook members, based in Traverse City, MI. Most of these ladies are actually fun to be around.

My work has appeared in Writer’s Digest, Motherwell, Chicken Soup for the Soul and regional publications (my fav is MyNorth!) throughout the Midwest. I also teach writing classes online for WOW Women on Writing.

I live in Northern Michigan with my husband, two sons, two Golden Retrievers and a mountain bike. Follow me on Facebook here or subscribe to this Substack - you won’t regret it.