Well, That Was a Bust

You may know him as Tim Gunn, but around my house we call him Uncle Tim. And by "we" I mean "me." Why Uncle Tim? I don't know, I guess I just decided he was so very fabulous, that we just had to be related somehow.

Uncle Tim was coming to Chicago last night for a book signing and I was pretty excited. We all know how wonderful our last encounter was where he told me I was fabulous and all my dreams came true. I needed a little more Tim Gunn love. I had to go.

Only problem, my maternity wardrobe isn't exactly what I would call fabulous. Sure it's cute for the most part, but no real head turners in there. It took all my creative genius to come up with an outfit for Fashion's Night Out on Friday. But here I was 3 days later, in need of another fabulous outfit. And it was ridiculously hot out, there would be no pretending I could get away with boots, so no just repeating what I wore Friday night.

In the end I wore an olive brown shirt dress, adorable beige headband, and the "EWP Favorite Things" nude Louboutins. And with a little extra time saved for makeup, I applie the perfect subtle eye, with just a hint of bronze to really rock these almond eyes. In a word, I was pretty hot for a pregnant lady. I envisioned Uncle Tim seeing me with my belly and my 5 inch heels and exclaiming how fabulous I was. It would be love at first sighting of high heels.

And then we got there. Over an hour before the signing. And Borders had run out of the book. After some phone calls we learned that so had the other Borders. And the Barnes & Noble. We had run out of book store options in the city. There would be no book for us to get signed.

And what totally baffled me about this was:
1) There were, tops, 75 people there. Borders seriously didn't carry more than 50 books???! For a signing? On Michigan Avenue? With Tim Gunn??? It seemed like the worst planning in history.

2) I looked around the women waiting and was utterly floored by what I saw. Many, many 50+ year old, completely overweight women, wearing mom jeans and sneakers. As they clutched Tim Gunn's book to their sagging, unsupported bosoms and sweatshirts, I thought to myself "You have never heard a word TG has said. Or even read a word of that book you're holding. And if you have, then you have no idea how to apply it to your life. Please leave." It was a really shocking look at chubby gross middle America. People I'd expect to see at an amusement park. Not a book signing for Tim Gunn.

But since we had no books for him to sign, it didn't make much sense to stand around (in 5 inch heels) for the next hour, just to not meet Uncle Tim at all. So we left. So sad.