At that moment, I really didn't care much either way, because I:
- was trying to work.
- am mostly indifferent to the alleged allure of Broadway/Philly-wanting-to-be-Broadway shows. I like plays and musicals well enough, but I just don't get that excited to see a story I already know acted out, unless I know some of the cast.
- don't plan that far in advance if at all avoidable.
I figured for the price of the tickets, it must be a nice venue, worthy of dressing up a bit, probably digging the dress slacks out of the closet. But yesterday, mom feels compelled to point that out.
"No jeans or sweatpants."
Of course, I took that as a challenge.
The show was tonight, and I babysat earlier this afternoon, so I was wearing sweatpants, and if you add my extreme fondness for this pair of sweatpants to yesterday's "just because you're 22 doesn't mean I trust you to dress yourself" comment, there was no way I was taking off these sweatpants.
However, contrary to my mother's opinion, I do know how to dress properly, and do know better than to go into a nice theatre looking my usual around-the-house hobo self.
Paradox resolution: the grey skirt.
The grey skirt is long. Floor-skimming long, and heavy enough that it drapes nicely even over a not-nicely-draping extra layer. And it's shiney-ish and pretty-- perfectly respectable evening-out-wear, paired with the black tank I was already wearing, a nice black cardigan, and cute black heels. Also, perfect sweatpants camouflage. \o/The show was pretty good too, by the way. :) (And there were totally people wearing jeans.)
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