The First Wardrobe Malfunction

I will never forget a hot day in the summer of 1984.  Our long-time neighborhood postman delivered a certified envelope to our front door.  I would be surprised if that nice man's ear drums have fully recovered even by now.

I screamed, like I had never screamed before.  These weren't the wails of a child in pain or fear.  These were the sounds an obsessed girl makes when she is holding an envelope containing concert tickets to see Michael Jackson.  I don't remember who, but someone on the scene reminded me to breathe.

This was no ordinary concert. Children all over the country had promised to take out the trash until they graduated from high school just for the chance to go to this event.  I was one of those kids.  I had no idea my deals with the devil would carry such a price.

My planning began immediately.  I had meticulously picked out my outfit weeks in advance.  To answer your question, yes, my chosen ensemble did include a sequins-covered glove for my right hand.

I knew without a doubt that this concert would be the happiest day of life.  And it could have been.  Then my mother got involved.  My mother was very proud that she and my dad could take my younger sister and I to Kansas City for the concert.  I am sure my parents made sacrifices so that we would be able to attend the concert as a family, and I appreciate that very much. Now the but.

Because of the expectation and expense involved, I think my mother was under the impression that we would be mingling with royalty at The Victory Tour show at Arrowhead Stadium.  At least that's what I try to tell myself as I work my way toward forgiveness.

You see, at my mother's demand, I was not allowed to wear my perfectly planned outfit with the coordinating sequins-glove.  This was a special occasion and my attire needed to correspond accordingly. So...she made us wear our Easter dresses to the Michael Jackson concert.  I'll say it again just so you can really understand the gravity of the situation.  I was forced to wear my Easter dress to the Michael Jackson concert.  

As you might expect, there are no pictures I can share with you.  My mother didn't want to capture my near-tears eyes as I looked around the parking lot watching kids my age flash their trendy clothes and breakdance and moonwalk around me.  I knew they were taunting me.  My mother knew it too, but it was too late.

The show began and thankfully, the lights went down and no one could stare at me in my pastel-striped dress.  Gag.  I do know for sure that the show was fantastic and I would have been thrilled to be there even if I was wearing a garbage bag.  Well, a garbage bag with my sequins-covered glove anyway.