A couple of weeks ago, a friend of ours held a “Get your glam on” party. Since this friend has enough costumes and outfits to start her own vintage clothing shop, I felt a little pressure to come up with something exciting. It occurred to me that Margaret and I would be the only Mormons at the party, and so I could take it as an opportunity to represent the faith—only glamorously! I got some glitter spray and sparkle-encrusted my missionary name badge. (I hope that doesn’t result in a fair-use lawsuit from the Church—I’ll just hope anyone who reads this doesn’t rat me out to the Salt Lake authorities.) Anyway, I had wanted to find a tight white shirt to wear with it and Margaret was still trolling for ideas, so we went to a local thrift store. Well I couldn’t find a single white button-up shirt—I guess they were more interested in more funky stuff. (This was the same store who didn’t want our Ralph Lauren and J. Crew clothing from college, but the buyer next to us bought a pair of frayed out denim cutoffs with paint spilled on them—I mean, what’s up with THAT?) Anyway, I didn’t want to wear the glitter badge only with a regular white shirt and pants—I did that in Norway and it didn’t seem too exciting. Margaret was taking a while, so I started browsing around the store and came upon these outrageous PURPLE VELVET PANTS! Margaret made me try them on, and as soon as I came out of the dressing room with them on, she told me that I couldn’t leave the store without them. I had to agree—they would complete the glam missionary look, even though velvet apparel isn't something I'd usually buy, and a purple clothing purchase is every rarer than a velvet one. She found a purple tie at the same store and took it home and glued rhinestones to it, completing the outfit. If my mission president could have seen me, he would have had second thoughts on honorably discharging me. It was hilarious to see people at the party wonder what I was dressed as, only to see the nametag and bust up. After the party, we went dancing, but I thought discretion was in order and I took off the tag, but I still got plenty of attention with my purple pants and bejeweled tie.

Not to be just a one-time thing, my next opportunity to wear the pants came up this weekend, when our friends Brent and Janis hosted a Halloween party with a costume theme of "color," and by a cosmic quirk of fate, I just HAPPENED to have a pair of purple velvet pants! Margaret and I went to a different vintage clothing store and while she was looking at gowns and boas from the 60’s, I went to the men’s department and told the guy about the pants and I was looking for a purple shirt to go with them. After commenting on how impressed he was about the pants, he told me that he had the perfect thing—and pulled a purple button-up cowboy shirt with purple and white gingham trim. It was perfect (although a little tight, but I guess looking a little slutty is what Halloween is all about, isn’t it?). Margaret didn’t find anything there she wanted, but remembered a bright pink pair of pajamas that her mother had given her. She found a pink fluffy feather boa and tiara and had a red wig that completed the outfit. We went to the party as pink and purple, and when Janis saw my outfit, she said she had the perfect thing to complete it—her purple bobbed wig. I had to admit, it WAS the perfect thing to wear with it, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of ridiculousness—since unlike most of the attendees of the party, I didn’t have any alcohol to lubricate my bravery. After a while, I felt a little more comfortable, but I don’t know if that was from the knowledge that most of the people around me were drunk, and so wouldn’t remember, or if it was from being high on the two liters of Diet Pepsi I drank. Either way, it was a lot of fun—and I’ll be on the lookout for more opportunities to wear the purple pants—my brother-in-law has a baby blessing coming up…