The Cute Outfit Principle

Yesterday, I had to have a nuclear stress test. I was injected with radioactive chemicals and forced to walk on a treadmill for miles. OK, maybe one mile. But it was uphill.

Anyway, the instructions said to wear comfortable clothes and shoes for walking. I actually have shoes for walking. I even wear them sometimes. So I pulled them out of the closet and searched for "comfortable clothes."

Now, keep in mind that to me comfortable clothes is an oxymoron. If it weren't for neighbors, teenage children, and an occasional chill wind, I'd be a home nudist. As it is, when I get home from work, I put on a very soft pair of pajama pants and an even softer t-shirt. Comfortable, yes. Fit for wear downtown? No.

Soooooo, I decided I needed a Cute Outfit for Walking. I went to Belk's Department store and found, after much searching, a Cute Outfit for Walking that would match my shoes and my eyes, be comfortable, and not embarrass the people around me (much.) On sale, the Cute Outfit for Walking was about $80, more than I like to pay for anything, except maybe a Cute Outfit for Seeing My Husband's Ex-Girlfriend. However, I cannot in good conscience spend that kind of money on an outfit and wear it for 3 hours (5 minutes of it spent walking on the treadmill). My wedding dress only cost $200, and I have pictures of that.

Of course, it is a Cute Outfit. When I mentioned that I'd bought a Cute Outfit, in the hopes of inspiring myself to walk, the radiation tech said, "yes, that is a cute outfit." I'm not sure why it surprised me that the notion of a "cute outfit for walking" would seem perfectly normal to a lot of people I am not married to. But then, I am often surprised by people.

Now I have my Cute Outfit for Walking, I am going to get my money's worth. I am going to walk every day. At least every other day. At least, some. I have no excuse not to walk.

The weather is nice, my husband is willing, and I have SUCH a cute outfit!