But life is full of surprises.
Yesterday, my closet revolted. Maybe it was angry from all the recent purging. Maybe it was offended by my fashion sense. It’s hard to tell.
I had opted for a black pencil skirt that morning. Classic choice, right? I pulled it on, fastened the hook and eye without issue, and proceeded to zip up.
But the zipper went on strike about three inches shy of the top of the skirt.
At first, I was optimistic. I’d hit snags before. I zipped down and up, trying to catch the snag unawares and break on through.
Then the nasty little thing threw me a curve ball. All of a sudden, the zipper wasn’t moving anywhere. It was camped out in no man’s land (where it remains today), still at that same three-inches-shy mark.
And so I was stuck. With very minimal wiggle room. And, naturally, I was running late. Because these sorts of things never happen when you have loads of time on your hands.
I made one last ditch effort to yank the zipper up and down, hoping to get at least another inch of space so that I could pull the skirt off. And the zipper responded by attacking me.
Talk about not fighting fair.
The way I figured, I had a few options:
- Safety pin the top three inches and go about my day.
- Wake up BNF and ask for his help in ripping the zipper down.
- Take the skirt off over my head.
Now you can see where the post title comes from.
I had tried sliding the skirt off the same way I put it on. But the combination of it being zipped most of the way up and my ample butt made that impossible. So over the head seemed the best course of action. Except for that little obstacle known as boobs.
I don’t want to admit how long it took me to get out of that skirt. Suffice it to say that it was a lot longer than it took to get in it. There was a lot of wriggling, a lot of grunting, probably a pulled muscle or two, and way more cursing than I’m usually prone to before 8am.
In the end? I really think the skirt won.
The zipper is still holding strong in no man’s land; it left my finger with a boo-boo; and the only “wounds” it has are some little white streaks.
I really hope it doesn’t inspire the rest of my closet.