What She Wore

I'm not Kate Middleton, although we both are what London's DAILY MAIL calls a "no-fuss" kind of girl.

Strangely enough, we also seem to be "terrified of making a fashion faux pas." 

My terror's probably hereditary. Zelma, my Midwestern mother, didn't buy designer clothes. But she had a keen sense of what should be worn where. 

Her voice lingers in my ear: "Are you going to wear THAT?"

So when I decided to attend the dinner in Concordia, KS, to accept the Special President's Award from the National Orphan Train Complex, I panicked.

HAIR

First order of business--get a haircut. 

Unlike Kate, I don't visit the hairdresser every six weeks. I only go when I can no longer stand my hair creeping into my eyes, over my ears, and under my collar.  

And unlike Kate, I certainly don't spend £105 for an appointment with a celebrity hairdresser. No, I frequent an Omaha, Nebraska, hairdressers' school. So I spend $8, plus a tip-------IF it's warranted. 

It wasn't. This "no-fuss" kind of girl returned home shorn like a fleeced ewe.

What could I do?

Nothing.

So I turned my mind to other matters. Such as

WHAT TO WEAR

I don't have a £400 a day personal shopping consultant like Kate, nor the time to spend at least a day a week shopping along London's Kings Road -- or anywhere else, for that matter. 

But I do have consultants: 

Dick Lerner, author, DRESS LIKE THE BIG FISH, & owner, Bel Air Fashions, Omaha

Sally J. Walker, a Big Fish in the Nebraska Writers Guild

Jack Loscutoff, my POSSLQ. 

Oh, you don't know what POSSLQ means? It's simple.

Person of the Opposite Sex Sharing Living Quarters. Pronounced (p