... part 2
"You look hot. And I mean that literally and figuratively... what's that huge coat you're wearing?" It was Jake, my ex-husband...
Jake was the last person I wanted to deal with that night. I was tired, and the combination of the heavy faux fur coat, the thick sweater, and the latex underneath felt like a suffocating and constantly tightening prison. I did my best ignoring him and began taking off my coat.
"And that waist! I think I haven't seen your waist in years, if not decades. That sweater, as thick as it is, is still way more revealing that those amorphous tunic things you wear nowadays."
"It's not the sweater. It's this awful contraption I'm wearing UNDERNEATH the sweater. A torture device that I'm sure was created by men who hate women.... Like you... Well, if you had any initiative." I barked back at Jake. "But yes, I'm very hot.... er ... warm!"
So you might wonder why my ex-husband was at my house? I wonder the same thing very often, even if there's an explanation. When we met, back in the early eighties, I was young and naive girl, trying to get my fifteen minutes of fame on TV, and jump start my acting career. Jake was low level playboy, fueling his lifestyle thanks to a trust fund. Our spurious romance led to an early marriage, but not before he showed his sleazy real self. He made me sign a prenup. I was hesitant at first, but I relented once he agreed to add a few concessions to the prenup. Just enough concessions so that I wouldn't be hungry or homeless... even though I had no claim whatsoever to his trust fund. Or so I thought. Surprise, surprise, we divorced five years later. And even those five years were a stretch. The divorce didn't surprise anyone. What did surprise me was the divorce discovery... Jake claimed to be broke! His trust fund spent on parties, worthless gadgets and clothing (some of those clothes were hanging in my closet, I must admit). Our house was paid for, but there was little else. Except for my income, as a struggling presenter in cable TV shopping network. Turns out a double edged sword cuts both ways, and so did our prenup. I left divorce court still owning half my house, and owing Jake a few months of back alimony payments. I was in shock, but there was little I could do. Just like the prenup would have guaranteed me a roof over my head, it also guaranteed a roof over Jake's head. And since I was the only one with an income, he was my responsibility.
I hung the coat on the coat rack and proceeded to head to my room. It had been a long day and just wanted to strip off everything I was wearing as soon as possible. Once in my bed, sleep came soon, even if fitfully.
The next day on my way to station I grabbed the massive fur coat from the rack, and with a sigh slipped my arms into the tight fitting armholes of the coat. It was sunny outside, and although cool as usual for the season, I felt like I was going to boil inside that coat on my way to work. But I didn't want to risk Kim seeing me *not* wearing it, as impractical as it was. The sweater and the latex cincher was another story, they were in a bag. I didn't want to suffer them (or suffer trapped inside then) until I absolutely had to. By the time I got to the station, I was relieved to take off the coat. Even without the car's heat, the coat was more than warm enough. It was also so thick and restrictive that it made driving really awkward. Getting to the office and taking off the coat was a relief, feeling unencumbered once again. I walked over to the wardrobe room to see what Cristina had for me to wear today.
Cristina had a beautiful (and very thick, of course) knee length sweater dress. It was done in a color block pattern of ivory, blue and burgundy, and of course a chunky oversized turtleneck. It would have been more than enough to wear outside in the blustery days of early December. Or at least I would have worn it like that. But Cristina had other plans. I could already see myself sweating under the set lights while trapped inside that. Before the sweater dress went over my head, it was time to put on the obligatory waist cincher. It wasn't the one I had in my bag with last night's sweater. This was a fresh one. Cristina maintained that I shouldn't wear the same one two days in a row: "You don't want the cincher to get overstretched and loose its holding power." Yes, I knew I was overweight, but she didn't have to rub it in. I didn't even know how many cinchers Cristina had in rotation for me, but every day it was a struggle to put on the day's torture device. Soon enough the latex garment was sealed around my middle, and having already worked out a sweat just putting it on, it was time to slip into the sweater dress.
While I was donning plain black leggings under the sweater dress, Cristina brought out a shiny looking shoe box. She opened the box and took out a new pair of very chic booties.
The booties were new, and out of the box looked extremely cute. They were ankle high, and had a pointy toe. They were made of luxurious smooth black leather up front, and black snakeskin leather around the back. It wasn't until I focused at the sky-high stiletto heel that it dawned on me that I would be spending my whole day perched on those precarious shoes.
Sooner than later, I was shod into said booties, and the heels click-clacked as I made my way to the set. The show of the day was a drag. Two hours of 'Toasty Trends', mostly featuring fall coats that were on clearance. But the upside is that the show went on without a hitch, without any drama. And that was good thing in my life right now...
"Hi Megan, it's me Susan again. Can I talk to you for a few minutes..."
Days came and went, and the new routine became just like the old routine, but with more and warmer clothes on. Suffer through the shows while faking a smile, go home, sleep, and come back and do it all over again.
Today's show was low profile enough to not have any guests, which means that Kim wasn't around. In fact, I hadn't seen Kin since that one incident with her gift... until I stepped off the set.
The new knee high boots that Cristina had gotten for me were killing me, after standing and walking around for more than 3 hours. Megan was right that the boots were "super cute", but mostly for the onlookers, not so cute for me perched who was perched on the precarious five inch heel (even if they had a one inch platform). And to make it worse I was boiling under the thick sweater dress that reached almost to my knees. The dress went all the way from the high turtle neck to just a few inches short of where my leather boots reached. Underneath I had leggings, but not regular leggings, these were fleece lined ones. It felt like torture, a hot . How much more could I take?
As I was walking Kim was standing in the hallway, casually speaking with Megan. As I got closer, I tried to fake a smile. Megan did the faked smile, and turned towards me.
"Susan! Great to see you, I was just chatting with Kim about the holiday specials we're planning for the next couple of weeks.... Hey listen, I also mentioned to her how you gave that new coat a chance, and how you know looooove it, right?"
I turned towards Kim and gave her the same fake smile...She smiled back...Saying Kim was somewhat bipolar wouldn't be too much of a stretch.
I was feeling distressed and uncomfortable after the long day. I was hot and sweaty. My feet hurt from standing for hours in my high heel boots. My waist cincher was driving me crazy, I felt it digging in all over my poor and sore flesh. I was trying to fidget with the shoulder straps of my cinched to adjust them into a more comfortable position, but the sweater dress I was wearing was too thick and made it hard to manipulate the straps. Without thinking I blathered something unexpected, and that I would come to regret:
"Yes, I've really been loving the coat, and I've gotten so many compliments. Specially from Megan... I'm sure she would like to have one of her own."
Megan looked at me with piercing eyes... and I felt the whole room grow colder.
"Really, Megan!? I wouldn't have expect you to like this coat that much, but it's wonderful to hear! I'll make sure to have one made just for you as soon as possible."
part 4
"You look hot. And I mean that literally and figuratively... what's that huge coat you're wearing?" It was Jake, my ex-husband...
Jake was the last person I wanted to deal with that night. I was tired, and the combination of the heavy faux fur coat, the thick sweater, and the latex underneath felt like a suffocating and constantly tightening prison. I did my best ignoring him and began taking off my coat.
"And that waist! I think I haven't seen your waist in years, if not decades. That sweater, as thick as it is, is still way more revealing that those amorphous tunic things you wear nowadays."
"It's not the sweater. It's this awful contraption I'm wearing UNDERNEATH the sweater. A torture device that I'm sure was created by men who hate women.... Like you... Well, if you had any initiative." I barked back at Jake. "But yes, I'm very hot.... er ... warm!"
So you might wonder why my ex-husband was at my house? I wonder the same thing very often, even if there's an explanation. When we met, back in the early eighties, I was young and naive girl, trying to get my fifteen minutes of fame on TV, and jump start my acting career. Jake was low level playboy, fueling his lifestyle thanks to a trust fund. Our spurious romance led to an early marriage, but not before he showed his sleazy real self. He made me sign a prenup. I was hesitant at first, but I relented once he agreed to add a few concessions to the prenup. Just enough concessions so that I wouldn't be hungry or homeless... even though I had no claim whatsoever to his trust fund. Or so I thought. Surprise, surprise, we divorced five years later. And even those five years were a stretch. The divorce didn't surprise anyone. What did surprise me was the divorce discovery... Jake claimed to be broke! His trust fund spent on parties, worthless gadgets and clothing (some of those clothes were hanging in my closet, I must admit). Our house was paid for, but there was little else. Except for my income, as a struggling presenter in cable TV shopping network. Turns out a double edged sword cuts both ways, and so did our prenup. I left divorce court still owning half my house, and owing Jake a few months of back alimony payments. I was in shock, but there was little I could do. Just like the prenup would have guaranteed me a roof over my head, it also guaranteed a roof over Jake's head. And since I was the only one with an income, he was my responsibility.
I hung the coat on the coat rack and proceeded to head to my room. It had been a long day and just wanted to strip off everything I was wearing as soon as possible. Once in my bed, sleep came soon, even if fitfully.
The next day on my way to station I grabbed the massive fur coat from the rack, and with a sigh slipped my arms into the tight fitting armholes of the coat. It was sunny outside, and although cool as usual for the season, I felt like I was going to boil inside that coat on my way to work. But I didn't want to risk Kim seeing me *not* wearing it, as impractical as it was. The sweater and the latex cincher was another story, they were in a bag. I didn't want to suffer them (or suffer trapped inside then) until I absolutely had to. By the time I got to the station, I was relieved to take off the coat. Even without the car's heat, the coat was more than warm enough. It was also so thick and restrictive that it made driving really awkward. Getting to the office and taking off the coat was a relief, feeling unencumbered once again. I walked over to the wardrobe room to see what Cristina had for me to wear today.
Cristina had a beautiful (and very thick, of course) knee length sweater dress. It was done in a color block pattern of ivory, blue and burgundy, and of course a chunky oversized turtleneck. It would have been more than enough to wear outside in the blustery days of early December. Or at least I would have worn it like that. But Cristina had other plans. I could already see myself sweating under the set lights while trapped inside that. Before the sweater dress went over my head, it was time to put on the obligatory waist cincher. It wasn't the one I had in my bag with last night's sweater. This was a fresh one. Cristina maintained that I shouldn't wear the same one two days in a row: "You don't want the cincher to get overstretched and loose its holding power." Yes, I knew I was overweight, but she didn't have to rub it in. I didn't even know how many cinchers Cristina had in rotation for me, but every day it was a struggle to put on the day's torture device. Soon enough the latex garment was sealed around my middle, and having already worked out a sweat just putting it on, it was time to slip into the sweater dress.
While I was donning plain black leggings under the sweater dress, Cristina brought out a shiny looking shoe box. She opened the box and took out a new pair of very chic booties.
The booties were new, and out of the box looked extremely cute. They were ankle high, and had a pointy toe. They were made of luxurious smooth black leather up front, and black snakeskin leather around the back. It wasn't until I focused at the sky-high stiletto heel that it dawned on me that I would be spending my whole day perched on those precarious shoes.
Sooner than later, I was shod into said booties, and the heels click-clacked as I made my way to the set. The show of the day was a drag. Two hours of 'Toasty Trends', mostly featuring fall coats that were on clearance. But the upside is that the show went on without a hitch, without any drama. And that was good thing in my life right now...
"Hi Megan, it's me Susan again. Can I talk to you for a few minutes..."
"Of course Susan, how can I help you?"
"The way you have me dressed for the shows is getting uncomfortable. Can I at least wear lower shoes on the shows? The heels are killing me."
"Well, the high heels help you look a bit taller, and somewhat less pudgy, so I'd say for now we'll keep the 'killer heels'... So learn to enjoy them, they really help you and your image. By the way, love those booties."
"Are you trying to get me to quit? Where am I going to go?"
"Trying to get you to quit! Not at all. But if you read your contract, it says clearly we can set reasonable expectations regarding your image. And high heels it is. Cristina showed me some new super cute knee high boots that she found specially for you. Enjoy your heels. And keep up that smile."
-----------Days came and went, and the new routine became just like the old routine, but with more and warmer clothes on. Suffer through the shows while faking a smile, go home, sleep, and come back and do it all over again.
Today's show was low profile enough to not have any guests, which means that Kim wasn't around. In fact, I hadn't seen Kin since that one incident with her gift... until I stepped off the set.
The new knee high boots that Cristina had gotten for me were killing me, after standing and walking around for more than 3 hours. Megan was right that the boots were "super cute", but mostly for the onlookers, not so cute for me perched who was perched on the precarious five inch heel (even if they had a one inch platform). And to make it worse I was boiling under the thick sweater dress that reached almost to my knees. The dress went all the way from the high turtle neck to just a few inches short of where my leather boots reached. Underneath I had leggings, but not regular leggings, these were fleece lined ones. It felt like torture, a hot . How much more could I take?
As I was walking Kim was standing in the hallway, casually speaking with Megan. As I got closer, I tried to fake a smile. Megan did the faked smile, and turned towards me.
"Susan! Great to see you, I was just chatting with Kim about the holiday specials we're planning for the next couple of weeks.... Hey listen, I also mentioned to her how you gave that new coat a chance, and how you know looooove it, right?"
I turned towards Kim and gave her the same fake smile...She smiled back...Saying Kim was somewhat bipolar wouldn't be too much of a stretch.
I was feeling distressed and uncomfortable after the long day. I was hot and sweaty. My feet hurt from standing for hours in my high heel boots. My waist cincher was driving me crazy, I felt it digging in all over my poor and sore flesh. I was trying to fidget with the shoulder straps of my cinched to adjust them into a more comfortable position, but the sweater dress I was wearing was too thick and made it hard to manipulate the straps. Without thinking I blathered something unexpected, and that I would come to regret:
"Yes, I've really been loving the coat, and I've gotten so many compliments. Specially from Megan... I'm sure she would like to have one of her own."
Megan looked at me with piercing eyes... and I felt the whole room grow colder.
"Really, Megan!? I wouldn't have expect you to like this coat that much, but it's wonderful to hear! I'll make sure to have one made just for you as soon as possible."
part 4
Great next chapter, and it makes courious about your intention. As her her boss might take revenge for her comment about the coat. Maybe she will give her one or two layers of warm clothes to be worn UNDER her thick wollen dress and her leggins to keep the visible layer free of sweat. Otherwise the dress would need to be cleaned after every show - but wearing some thick turtlenecks and wollen tights to soak the sweat, that could help to keep the dress dry. AND a nice sweater coat in same colour as the dress, with a thick hood folded on her shoulder like a stola, this would increase her image as woolen role model. (Well and it would increase the heat ov her body too, I believe. IN addition her exhusband could be used to controll her outfit at home. IF her boss and her ex work tougehter, her "image" could stay perfect during her eveninges and on free weekends. Hope you will continue soon, BR Mr. George
ReplyDeleteI forgot to mention, her boots would become narrow in case she gets to wear two additional woolen tights (to soak the sweat) using the same size of boots as before without the additional layers. So it would become hard even to sit with this boots. :-)
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