Flying Ducts

So tomorrow I have to attend an out-of-town site inspection. And the client is flying us down on his private plane.

I'm not too excited about this.  I would far rather take a full-size commercial jetliner than a teeny-tiny private plane.  As DH said, "those things crash all the time!" (He's not too excited about this, either.)

Anyway, I worked until about 7:30 tonight, tying up loose ends in case today is my last day on earth.  Then met DH and the girlies for a quick dinner and finally made it home about 8:30, where I spent half an hour staring into my closet trying to figure out what the heck I am wearing tomorrow.

The problem: nearly all of my pants are hemmed for heels.  Heels are not appropriate for a site inspection. Usually I wear a nice pair of dark jeans, and that is perfectly appropriate and very much in line with what all of the other attorneys are wearing to these things.

But one of the big bosses is going, and the big bosses tend to err on the side of formal and I think he will be all frowny if I show up in jeans. 

I recall that I have one pair of black pants hiding in the back of my closet that I bought specifically to wear with my one pair of flats.  They've been back there so long there is a line of dust where they fold over the hanger. I put them on, excited to see that they fit.

Well, kinda.  They fit, but I'm left with a muffin top.  You know those 10 pounds that I lost when I quit eating bread?  Well, I've gained 5 of them back thanks to Sonic's half-price milkshakes after 8:00. I can't find a shirt to hide that muffin top.  It ain't pretty.

By 9:00 I decide that I am having a fashion emergency and must buy new pants. Of course, the only stores in town that are still open are Kohls and Target, and I have to be at the airport at 7:30 in the morning. Kohls it is, and my little fashionista, SS, comes along to give me advice (and manages to score a new pair of shoes off the clearance rack!).

I try on approximately 300 pairs of pants, before coming up with something suitable.  They're a bit too big, but at least there's no muffin top.  And they're too long to wear with my flats.

Back home by 10:00, and I have to figure out how to hem my pants.  I can sew,  but I don't do clothes, and I'm pretty sure it will look like crap if I try.  Not to mention that all of my sewing supplies are shoved willy-nilly into a closet since we turned my sewing room into TT's bedroom. That includes the iron-on hem tape that would be oh-so-handy right about now.

So I turn to duct tape. It will fix anything, right? And I have used duct tape to fix a hem in an emergency before (staples actually work better, but are more visible--I am notorious for catching a heel in my hem.).

And so I iron a sharp crease at the new hemline and proceed to hem my pants with pink and black zebra-striped duct tape. Fingers crossed that it holds, because there is an enormous opportunity here for me to make a total fool of myself.

Fingers and toes crossed that I make it home in one piece tomorrow. Hopefully the plane is held together with more than duct tape. If you don't hear back from me after this, it was nice knowing you.