Um....okay....

The other day, I mentioned that I had a strange experience that I might share. Lemmee 'splain.

I have a lady who I term my "dealer" who supplies me with craft supplies and plenty of inspiration for projects. She decided to have a "customer appreciation night" not so long ago, which would showcase the new items available and give her long-time customers a chance to muck about a bit with some of the new products. I decided to go. I've been in a bit of a crafting slump lately, and needed a kick in the pants to get my creative juices flowing.

When I arrived, there were about seven other people there, none of whom I knew. I felt sort of out of place, but I forgot all that once I started looking at all of the craft projects set up on various tables around her home. More people arrived, including three or four people I actually knew. We all meandered around, looking at the samples. Pretty soon, Dealer was explaining that we'd get to make one each of the samples on the table, and explained quickly how to craft all three examples. The group (of now about 24 women) splits up, with people going to various tables to make the projects laid out before them.

As the night winds down, having made their free projects and placed their orders, people sit in clumps and talk, or gather their things and begin to take their leave. I'm sitting on a couch, talking with a friend from the Girl Scout days when I'm approached by a lady whom I do not know. She says, "Hello, KLee. My name is (her name) and I have something I'd like to talk to you about." Now, not knowing this woman at all, I shake her hand, mumbling politely, and have no earthly clue as to what she's about to unleash upon me. She continues,"I had gastric bypass surgery about seven months ago, and I've lost about 100 pounds. I have two whole boxes of clothes in the trunk of my other car. Now, I'm not trying to offend you in any way, but would you like to have the clothes? I know when I was larger that I would have loved to be given free clothes. I had every plan on boxing them up and taking them to some place like Goodwill, but I'd rather see them go to an actual person, someone who would really use them."

On the one hand, I'm always glad to have free clothes. (The fat lady clothes, they do not come cheap.) On the other hand, I'm slightly offended. I mean, even though her heart was in the right place, and she clearly knew what it was like to be heavy -- I was still slightly offended. She was very nice, and very sweet, but... I feel badly enough about the way I look without complete strangers mentioning it at parties, you know? I blushed beet red, I'm quite sure, but I took her up on her offer.

Upon opening the boxes, I discovered quite a few things that will stand me in good stead for the coming of the new school year. Khaki and black pants, and some more "business-y" attire that will go a long way towards sprucing up my frumpy image. But, as with every grab bag, every unknown, there were surprises. And a few things that did not make the hit parade.

Item number one is what I term an "old lady pantset." It's a top and bottom, made of turquoise blue-and-white checked gingham. There are pockets on the front bottom hem of the shirt featuring embroidered flowers and clover. Uh...no.

Item number two is a pair of plaid green and blue pants. They remind me of Catholic school uniforms. Not going on my body.

Number three inspired great hilarity in Amy. She demanded a picture. It's a red and grey plaid vest-and-shorts set. Now, either garment by themselves isn't particularly bad, but together? Like a fate worse than death. The photo above depicts said combo. The shorts are about knee length.

But by far, the item that garnered the most shudders from me was a pair of pleather pants. JF was very excited at the prospect of pleather pants, but his enthusiasm waned somewhat when I patiently explained that there was probably about a 5% chance of those pants actually appearing on my body. After all, I do not want to be mistaken for some plus sized rock star, do I? Or the cow from whence the pants (metaphorically) came. That would be just plain embarrassing.