Beige

I reached into the dregs of my closet in desperation today and pulled out an outfit (loose-fitting skirt and blouse) I wore at the beginning of my pregnancy years ago. Honestly, it made me look like somebody’s aunty (minus the braided buns on either side of my head).

I never wear skirts and it was hot today so I resorted to applying some Pure Passion blissful breeze scented liquid body silk for men on my inner thighs to prevent chafing. I originally bought it for my husband’s sweaty balls but he claims his don’t sweat and since it’s not the sort of thing I feel comfortable leaving on top of the mini fridge at work with a post-it that says “I’m all yours; please take me home.”, I decided to give it a try. And hey folks, it actually works. Better than corn starch. Neater than Vaseline. Cooler than those pricey anti-chafe shorts.

Oh, and here’s a fashion tip for members of the brown club. We don’t do beige well, at least not on top. At best, it makes us look anemic. But mostly, it makes us look motion sick.

Every single one of my clients reacted to my outfit today. My first client clapped her hands together (no easy feat with a broken wrist) and said, “Sharon, you look transformed!”, which is a polite word for the opposite of a make-over. Another client started breathing like Darth Vader. And my last patient turned her mouth into a circle like Mr. Bill and said, “Ooh noooo …”.

Here’s how you cope with a day when the only thing that fits is beige and your clients are having trouble breathing. You slather on some liquid breeze and you walk slowly and often, one foot in front of the other, heel to toe. You close your mouth and inhale for four seconds, exhale for six and hold for two seconds before taking another breath. Then, when you feel better, you look through your closet with fresh eyes and find something that isn’t beige for the next day.