Naked Ladies

I was finally invited a laddies night in the office, they have this party called “the Naked Laddies” (That I kept calling the bearnaked laddies by mistake)

Where they meet up in Jessica Morris’ Classy downtown apartment, with rich dark wood and a gold bevrage tray packed full of whiskey. 

Everyone brings clothes that they don’t want, everyone gets tippsy on wine and everyone switches clothes, and all the unwanted clothes at the end of the night Jessica, the host, takes all the leftover clothes to donate. 

They do it at the change of every season, a time to clean out your closent. They all dress so damn classy so I could only imagine the clothes they would be trading. 

To fit in, I went shopping and bought a lot of desiner clothes, ripped off all the tags then slept with them in my bed for a night to make them look like they had been laying around on my floor, then took them to the party.

(Not really, but I thought about it.)

But I got together a bag of clothes and went. 

I don’t know why I hate to admit when I like girly things, mostly because I like to seprate myself from the darkside of females that catty, bratty, make crafts and pretend to be nice while you are secrectly comparing handbags. 

But The Naked Lady Party was different. It was rejuvenating to sit around, bevrage in hand, and talk about everything and anything with them. I feel so grown up too because we are all working wemen. Some of them don’t want kids and are conent to be married and working and living an adventruos life with their husband. The conversations were about work, and was real easy to jump into, work gossip, places downtown to try out. I feel more and more like a grown up all the time and it was no different that night. 

To walk away with good conversation, a cheetah print bikini and new Patagonia puffy coat is great, espeshally when that means you have gotten rid of a good handful of your own stuff. 

But the real highlight happened two days after the party. 

I came into the office and four girls in the office were wearing ‘McKay’. Not planned, just rocken my clothes, and showering me with complements. 

I guess the clothes I trow away are just way hip, I can’t help it. And that says a lot for the clothes I keep, I must be one cool chick. 

I made them all take a picture. . . Look at them all, rocken' my clothes.