Tales of Fashion Disasters

On the first day of first grade, my beloved teacher, Mrs. Ivey, told us that we would be having PE the next day and that, if we wanted to, we could bring gym clothes to change into. Being new at the whole PE experience, and wanting to make Mrs. Ivey proud, I went home that afternoon and insisted that we go right out and get a "gymsuit." In my mind this included a leotard, like the girls on TV. (It was the 80's!) My parents questioned this, but I insisted that for PE the next day I would need a gymsuit.
We headed out to get what I wanted and brought it home. The next day, I absolutely could not wait for PE (if you can believe that), so that I could change into my new clothes. It wasn't until we got to the gym that I realized I was the only student who had brought anything, and the PE teacher was surprised at my request to change. Apparently, in elementary school, there is no changing for gym. She finally gave in, and led me to a locker room, which had gone unused for years, and let me change.
Now, before I tell you what I emerged wearing, I must insist that you not laugh quite as long and hard as Justin did when I told him this story. I realize that, in retrospect, it's funny, but I thought the part where he was laughing so hard he was unable to breathe and fell out of bed was overdoing it a bit. This was traumatic for me! Ready? Ok, then.
My gymsuit, which I was so proud of, was a black leotard with straps, like a bathing suit. The black part had all sorts of brightly colored designs on it and the straps went over a bright pink, capped-sleeved t-shirt, which was sewn into the leotard. It looked something like this:

Except with a layered look because of the skinny straps and pretend t-shirt. I'm pretty sure that I was also wearing it over shiny, pink-spandex bike shorts. With a headband. JANE FONDA WAS VERY POPULAR!

Are you all done laughing at me now? Shall we continue? Oh you need more time. Fine......

Obviously, no other 7 year olds were channeling Olivia Newton John, and I was mortified to walk out into the gym and see them there, sans spandex. Unwilling to admit exactly how wrong I was about all of this, I continued the PE class in my jazzersize getup and then changed again before heading back to class. By the time I got home, I was in an absolute tizzy. Crying and completely freaked out, I could not believe how wrong I had been. To make things worse, my parents scolded me for insisting on the gymsuit to begin with. But how was I to know? I had no point of reference, other than Buns of Steel, for what gym clothes were. They never believed me after this, any time I came home from school telling them that I needed this or that. And not just for the rest of first grade, or elementary school either. They were non-believers while I was in HIGH SCHOOL too. Oh, the shame!
You can clearly see that this experience scarred me for life. I never leave the house unless I'm really, really sure that my clothes are right.
Also, you may or may not be surprised to discover that this isn't my only embarrassing moment that revolves around a leotard. Perhaps if you're lucky, some day I'll tell you about the "Naked Eve" costume that I had to wear once for a church choir performance. Yes. Naked. Or more accurately, I suppose, "naked."