A few minutes after sitting down to visit Hennie last evening she began to chuckle and told me that my tee shirt was on backwards. I looked down at my front to see the zumba happy face in the middle of the shirt and thought, well the design looks okay, and then I said, “I thought the neckline was a bit high and rubbing my throat …” and as I ran my finger around the neckline the label from the backside of the shirt popped out. Oh my. She said she could tell by the shoulder seams. As a seamstress she would certainly know these things. Then I cringed, thinking about anyone in the class who may have noticed – most likely the instructor, and no one said a word about it, though I expect it did not go by unnoticed.
It took me back to the days in California when I was always rushing around with the children and not paying enough attention to the person in the mirror. On Sundays we usually stayed after Mass for the coffee and donuts, my thinking surely we would meet some people, but never did get beyond small talk with anyone.
I wore a lot of sweater vests in those days and had one in each of a multitude of colors – they were comfortable and just a slight cover in case there was a cool breeze or A/C that was too intense, but mostly they reminded me of my maternal grandmother who always wore one in her home. Of course, she had crocheted all of her own supply.
As we mingled among the other people drinking coffee or talking through powder sugar mustaches I saw a lady wearing a particularly lovely white angora sweater vest and I just had to admire it. I said it was so lovely and asked her if someone made it for her. Saying yes as she looked over her wire rimmed glasses at me she then added, “You may want to know, yours is on inside out.”
Well, of course, I’d want to know that.