Brunch and Underwear

I’ve been feeling pretty good about life lately. I just moved into an apartment that I’m in love with in the East Village, I’m shooting a film that seems to be doing well where I actually really like my character, and warmer weather is on its way. My friend K and I recently started a new tradition of Sunday brunch and it is quickly becoming my favorite part of the weekend. Only on Sundays is it socially acceptable to drink before noon and pig out on a meal that ends up lasting three hours long.

Last Sunday I decided to wear a huge, long and puffy orange skirt that barely fit in the bathroom stall. I admired myself in the restroom and then confidently walked back to my table with a smile on my face when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the chic French hostess and she leaned in to whisper something in my ear. Immediately I thought that one of her co-workers wanted to know if I was single but what ensued was shocking:

FH: Umm Mizz, I ave to tell you. Yur skirt iz tucked into your underwear.
ME: What? (at this point it simply wasn’t registering.)
FH: I zaid, yur skirt iz tucked into your underwear!

Could this be possible? I mean, my skirt was huge and I didn’t feel any kind of draft. My first instinct was that she was lying, but what would be the point of that? Already feeling my cheeks flush, I reached behind me and . . . oh god. . . oh no . . . I look around me and strangers are staring at me and snickering . . . OH MY GOD. MY HUGE BRIGHT ORANGE SKIRT IS TUCKED INTO MY UNDERWEAR!!! Light blue underwear. Light blue sheer underwear. And I have a wedgie.

It takes a lot to mortify me. I mean, I honestly can’t remember the last time I was embarrassed. My lack of inhibitions is part of what makes me a good actress so though I often say/do the wrong thing, I rarely feel humiliated. But oh did I on Sunday. All I could do was laugh at myself so hard that I teared up and cradle my head in my hands. Thank goodness we had just paid our bill so I made a beeline out of there.

Maybe a little humiliation isn’t a bad thing. It reminds us all that we’re human and we make mistakes. God knows I’ve made plenty of them. I just hope that next time it doesn’t involve my underwear. . .