I was going to write a post on cute summer sandals, but I got sidetracked by fear of something I have to do later today, so I decided to get real and post on that instead.
One of the fun, flukey things about living in New York is that you occasionally find yourself in social situations with a celebrity. And it turns out that some new friends of ours are friends with someone famous. Really famous. Like, Oscar-winning famous. Fun and “six degrees of separation” on one hand and on the other…. Eeks.
(I’d tell you who — I’m dying to tell you who — but out of consideration for our friends, I’m going to refrain.)
We’ve known about this celebrity connection for a while now and knew that, if we continued to get to know these new people, eventually we’d have to meet this certain someone. The time has come. She’s a celeb mom and, along with some other parents, we’ve all been invited to a birthday party for our friend’s son this afternoon.
And here’s the real kicker: it’s a POOL party. While I’ve been assured there’s no pressure to go in, I’ve also been told that this mom loves pool parties with the kids and she’ll definitely be getting in. Awesome! Not only do I have to meet someone hugely famous — and beautiful — for the first time, but I have to do it in a bathing suit?! Cruel and unusual.
She’ll be skinny, that’s a given. But she won’t be the only one. All of the other Manhattan moms will be, too. I’ve met some of this group before, and they’re all REALLY nice, but they’re also all a size 2. They run, they work out, they have personal trainers — they LIKE to exercise.
Not only do I NOT have a great body, I do not have a new or especially cute swimsuit to wear and I do not have nicely-polished toenails. (I should have done some advance personal prep, but I’ve been in denial about this party, hoping maybe the famous mom would have to jet off to film a movie or something at the last minute. Does she really show up for kids’ birthday parties? Apparently, she does.)
I did buy a new lipstick yesterday at Bloomingdale’s, but that’s all I’ve got going for me and that will be very little help in the pool.
So, I can stand around in my clothes and feel a little more comfortable about myself but completely un-fun, or I can say what the hell and just go for it and get in. I guess I have to go with the latter, right? Advice welcome, ’cause I’m stressing my dilemma.
(If you are one of the few people reading who *knows* who the famous mom is, quiet, please! Nothing in print.)