Doing it all for charityPublished 10:09am Friday, October 19, 2012
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kelley retorted. “It looks great, but I love the black suit, too. And the teal dress. Do you have any black, strappy, sandals to wear with it?”
“Sure,” I chirped. “I generally put them on when I go into the barn to clean stalls and feed in the morning. No, I don’t have any girly shoes at all. But if Muck Boot comes out with a pump, I’ll be the first in line to buy it.”
A decision of three outfits were made and I drove back home, looking despairingly at my mime-white legs and wondering how I would even-out my ‘rider’s tan.’ My arms, despite lashings of sunblock, are as brown as beans, ending abruptly mid-wrist where riding gloves cover my hands. Wearing breeches and boots all summer, my legs should probably be checked for a vitamin D deficiency – they rarely see the sun. I had two days to sit just inside the shade of the barn in the early afternoon, sticking my legs out into the direct sun, turning my position slowly over, like a chicken on a spit, trying to rid them of the white glare that was capable of burning ants on the pavement.
“Why not try those self-tanning lotions?” Paul suggested, walking past on the way to the tool shed.
“And look like John Boehner?” I cried, angling a sheet of aluminum foil at my calves.
I have never been in such a blind panic about an appearance. Even standing backstage, years ago, at the Tonight Show, or Oprah, I was usually munching on something from the catering table, confident in my material to be able to deliver with ease when the curtains parted and I hit the stage…but now I was to do something I was clearly unprepared to do: the runway walk, teetering on skinny heels and not tripping over my bunion-adorned sized 10s! I haven’t slept for days…
By the time this goes to press, the fashion show will be a distant memory and I pray I won’t have ended in ER with a snapped ankle. I also pray that I won’t be cringing from humiliating memories and, particularly, a viral Youtube showing a splattering fall.
Because, after all, it’s only while doing stand-up that you want everyone in a room laughing at you…