Friday, May 20, 2011

Dressing for the Rapture

You probably know by now, but the rapture is supposed to be tomorrow at 6:00, your local time. I have noticed from reading my Twitter and Facebook feeds that not a lot of people know what the Rapture actually is. As someone who spent the better part of her formative years attending a somewhat fundamentalist Baptist church, I know a lot about the Rapture. Basically because I know some people who have been looking forward to it the way you or I might look forward to a 90% off sale in the Nordstrom shoe department. My brother in law, for example, who attended Jerry Falwell's Liberty University (which--prepare to be angry--received $446 million in federal funds last year) has a thingie hanging off his rearview mirror that says "In case of rapture, this car will be unmanned!" My brother in law lives for the Rapture; other things my brother in law lives for include Disney World and Pokemon.

As you probably have guessed, I don't expect to be ascending to high heavens on Saturday. I've lived a pretty decent life, I guess, but there's been a lot of premarital sex, and there's that whole "bleeding heart liberal" thing to contend with. My husband assures me, though, that if we see people starting to ascend in Asia (since 6:00 local time will happen there first), there is always time for us to repent of our sinful ways. And, well, his uncle is a preacher, so if worse comes to worse, Matt says he will call him and have him baptize us all in our bathtub. Matt has had a much better religious upbringing than I have and when the Bible category comes up in Jeopardy I know I'm screwed (I only attended the fundie church after we started dating, and only then as a way of seeing him), so he assures me that this will probably work, even if one has committed the mortal sin of having gone to Berkeley and voting for Nader. I, of course, have my doubts. But then again, I wouldn't be in the position of having to plan my outfits for the post apocalypse if I weren't somewhat doubtful by nature.

So without further adieu, I present to you "What to Wear As You Prepare to Be Engulfed by a Horrible Earthquake Fed by the Fire of Gay Pride."

1. First off, if you think you will in fact be ascending to heaven, congratulations. Please do not wear a dress. I usually advocate wearing dresses to everything because they are comfortable and always look acceptable. HOWEVER. You will be floating above us all as you make your exit to a land of paradise and gold streets. We don't want to see your underwear or your cellulite. There will be a lot of snarky people left on earth, and although you may be rising abovie it all (quite literally), I don't think you want to be the butt of a bunch of sinful jokes. Get it? BUTT of our jokes? See, that's what us sinners do. Make jokes. As our world burns around us.
2. Wear comfortable shoes. This could be your chance to get that huge flat screen or that iPad or those Louboutins. I mean, I'm not sure when the looting will commence, but I know I'm planning on hanging out in a Target tomorrow around 6:00, probably in the electronics section. And if you've ever been shopping on Black Friday, you know to be ready. And just think--all the good people will be gone. It will only be us heathens. Therefore, I'm wearing my Frye's which I think will only be helped in appearance by the blood of the unholy. And I'll be carrying a shank.
3. As we descend into a terror-filled existence marked by earthquakes, fires, pestilence, locusts and many, many gay men having sex on street corners, you may find that you no longer care about wearing make-up or counting calories. I would say that that is fine. However, this is also the time to live out your wildest fashion fantasies. Always wanted a B-52's style beehive and a pair of white go-go boots to wear to work? Now's your chance. Prepare accordingly. Me? I've always wanted a dressing gown, a pair of marabou lined mules and some winged eyeliner. When the shit really hits the fan, you'll find me gazing at myself in a mirror lovingly and imploring Zsa Zsa Gabor to eat her fucking heart out. Keep in mind other non-fashion related end-of-world wishes. For example, I will want to keep my jeans around because at some point, I plan on riding a miniature pony down my high school's main hallway while listening to Queen.
4. In the coming months, as supplies dwindle and the world is slowly devoured by chaos and thousands and thousands of aborted fetuses, I predict that DiorShow mascara and Clinique Black Honey Almost Lipstick will be considered currency. Once again, plan accordingly.
5. You may be reading this and thinking, "My God, Morgan. I'm worried enough about finding things to eat, much less wear!" In this case, I give you two words my friend: EDIBLE UNDERWEAR. Look into it. Actually, though, if you don't know what edible underwear is, nor have experienced it first hand, or hell, you don't have a pair hanging around that you are saving in case of apocalpyse, you might be one of the lucky who gets to eat dinner with your homeboy, J.C. tomorrow. In which case, MORE FOR ME.

I hope that the nearing apocalpyse finds you happy with your lot, whether you will be ascending or staying here to await your horrible, boil and canker sore infested fate. If you are around, I hope that we can meet-up. I'll be the girl trying to trade mascara for gas.

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