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Pink Sweater Day - My Ugly Sweater Story

big bosom, bubble gum, cheap sweater, church social, fashion fit, feminine, never been kissed, pink sweater -

Pink Sweater Day - My Ugly Sweater Story

I love men and I love socializing.

Let's get those two things out of the way right now. But, on the Day of Pink Sweater, I was destined to be in a tight spot regarding clothing choices for a church social. A homemade sweater, yes. A cheap sweater, yes. Thanks to my mother, I was built slender of body and big of breast, so there wasn't a lot that didn't look good on me. At my most casual, a fitted t-shirt, stylish jeans, and some silver jewelry were all that was needed to make me look like a knock-out.

But today, all of my clothes were dirty, sweaty, and actually quite stiff from being stuck in the laundry too long. Kind of a crunchy stiff. Yeah, it was gross.

I had a church social that evening, and there were about four hot guys I was looking to impress. My options were a pair of white ribbed, wide leg black jeans (which looked great on my butt and legs) and a very bright, hot pink "knob-ly" sweater (which was my color of choice, but which made my slender waist look about as wide as my amble bosom). An ugly sweater? You decide.

My mom always told me that, when confronted with a choice of fit or color, guys always preferred a woman who looked feminine over a woman who looked tailored. Next to the fit, shapely women at my church group, I was not sure if this hot pink "knob-ly" sweater would make me look feminine or just round and bulky. The ugly sweater puffed out like a giant ball of bubble gum. The wide-leg black jeans would have been perfect with a slim sleeveless top, but they just might add to the bulk of the pink sweater.

I put everything on, including my homemade sweater, and pulled my hair back on top to slim out my face, with some tendrils hanging down. I looked in the mirror. Yep. I had just gained 40 lbs.

I arrived at the event. Everyone was dressed in modern, gracefully flowing, and slim fit clothes. I felt like the woman on Never Been Kissed, in her prom dress, when she was a teenager. My cheap sweater and I walked into the room and began to mix with the crowd.

I knew that I had to live down this incredibly knob-ly, bulky thing I was wearing. So, I consciously remembered to smile a lot. I never let my face die down. I was gentle and funny loving and gracious to everyone! And the pink sweater, bright hot pink as it was, shone like Christmas lights in on a hot, June night. I might have been able to live it down if it hadn't so freaking bright!

But, someone was inevitably going to comment on it. One of my best friends (he's 7'2" tall.... I'm 4'8" tall) walked over to me, bent down, and grabbed the shoulder of my ultra bulky sweater and put it to his mouth and began blowing into the fabric. I stared at him over my shoulder. He looked up and said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were a very large piece of Double Bubble Gum!"

I swiped at him with my claws, but he stepped back just in time. He was laughing, but he was still bent over, only intending the joke to be for me and him. I swiped with my other hand....and this time made contact.

"OW!" He held his face, and jokingly said to the people who had turned around when I hit him, "She hit me!" And pretended to be shocked at my behavior.

Everyone gathered around and a young woman, her eyes wide, asked, "What's going on?" I rolled my eyes and yelled, for everyone to hear, "HE WAS ACTING LIKE I'M A GIANT PIECE OF BUBBLE GUM!!!"

Everyone laughed and the room relaxed even more than it had been. I smiled and was looking around for something to munch on, when another best friend of mine (younger brother to the first...the top of my head came up to his waist) walked up and said in a low voice, but purposely loud enough for everyone to hear, "She's right. She's not a giant piece of bubble gum. She's actually pretty small." This got a bigger laugh, especially accompanied by me chasing after him, flailing my fists.

The first brother grabbed my pink sweater by the back of the neck to stop me from pursuing the second brother, and I entertained everyone by doing a while and violent gesticulation of reaching for the second brother while being held back.

In the end, it didn't matter that I was wearing that obnoxiously bright and knob-ly pink sweater. My own personality was allowed to show through, and my friends and I entertained the crowd with our antics. Thank God for boys who pick on girls.



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