Fashion Missed Her

"If you could just cut 8" off the bottom of my skirt, that would be great," I said to Grumpy as I clunked along in my little heeled boots.
We were walking into the Hotel Arista, Naperville's new boutique hotel to attend the closing night of Naperville Fashion Week. Even before we entered the building I noted all the other females were wearing tight black mini skirts and balancing on dangerously high heels. I say females because they weren't really old enough to be women, but not quite young enough to be girls. I, on the other hand, was old enough to be their mother.
Where most of the other attendees were dressed in the latest fashions, I had opted for a long black velvet skirt with an elasticated waistband and teal T shirt from Coldwater Creek, topped off with a Chinese style black velvet jacket. The jacket's label says Made In Hong Kong, but it was still the coolest thing I had on since I actually bought it in Hong Kong. Oh, and the little pointy black boots of course.
Before long we were playing the Naperville kissing game. You know, the one where you kiss everyone hello without actually touching them. You do it by leaning forward and making a kissing noise about 6" from the recipient's ear.
After an hour of this, interrupted only by the odd appetizer, it was time for the main part of the evening. A wonderful fashion show featuring clothes from some local boutiques. All the styles were new to me of course, because none of them sell anything that would fit me. The nearest I got to discovering a new look was an interesting display from the Curtain Exchange.
Just before we left, I made a pit stop at the ladies' room. It was full of shrieking women, wildly excited about nothing in particular.
"I feel so pretty today," said one of them to her friends. Then she spun round to look at me.
"Don't you just feel so pretty today?" she asked.
I was a bit taken aback. I can honestly say no one has ever asked me that question before in my entire life. If you met me, you'd know why.
I looked down at my frumpy skirt and Hong Kong Fooey jacket.
"Well, probably not quite as pretty as you do," I said. (If all four women lined up in a row, my jacket would have still been too big for them).
"Oo, but your accent's pretty," she shrieked.
Of course once I spoke, they realised who I was. It's not that I'm that famous, but there just aren't that many English people in Naperville.
"You're Hilary, aren't you? I follow your blog!" said another, putting out her hand. I hoped she'd just washed it. It suddenly struck me I was actually meeting fans in the ladies' room. Probably best place for them since my entire fan club would probably fit inside one cubicle.