There's a Lot More to Life Than Being Really, Really, Ridiculously Good Looking - Part 3

Standing in front of my closet, I was weighing out the options. Ironic or classic? These were really my only two choices. Though I enjoy following fashion and watching trends, I suck at pretending I care enough to buy a new necklace every time Forever 21 decides boho chic is in or out again. Plus, my overwhelming desire to look like I dropped out of a Rogers and Hammerstein piece tends to color my ability to fit into fashion’s social norms.

I had my outfit for the big ANTM tryout narrowed down to two equally offbeat dresses. One was a black velvet and gold lamé tulle explosion from the early Madonna years, and the other was a retro 1950’s garden-party inspired dress also in black, and adorned with small white polka dots. Ironic or classic? After hopping in and out of each dress a few times, painstakingly looking at them in both the bedroom full length mirror and the smaller bathroom mirror (each providing not only different views, but also different light), I chose the garden party dress. Over mutterings from the boyfriend reminding me that I was doing this just for fun, I matter-of-factly explained to myself that, really, velvet is more of an evening look, and this tryout was at 2 o’clock in the afternoon – the perfect time for a 50’s style back yard tea.

Did I over think the outfit? Oh surely, yes. But considering my being brainwashed by the survey I filled out the night before, it added up. I made the firm decision that my clever responses to their application would not be enough to seal the deal. In order to take reality TV by storm, I had to have a classic, yet edgy look to catch their eye. The dress took care of the classic, and I was counting on my platinum locks and tendency to overdose on black mascara to cover the edgy aspect.

In red patent leather peep-toed heals, I clumsily practiced my runway walk for the boyfriend and the non-trying-out-yet-attending-for-moral-support friend before we hit the road. I greedily soaked in the compliments they gave adding further to my delusions of grandeur. Before I pranced out to pick up the other friend who was trying-out, the boyfriend tried to give me some sage advice about keeping things in perspective. Or something like that, it was hard to hear him over my inner self who was boisterously singing my praises. This is going to be a cake-walk I told myself. I am going to stand out from every lame sequined tank top girl that shows up. I am a beautiful and unique snowflake. My inner Tyler Durden frowned. I was going to win fame, success, and happiness. No one can compete with a retro 1950’s garden party inspired dress. Nothing can stop me now.