By Heather O.
I’m so not a fashion queen. Trust me. One thing I like about the temple is that fashion is not a part of it. At all. Everybody wears white–how can you go wrong with that? Well, apparantly, you can.
I went to the temple yesterday, and at the end of the ceremony, when I handed my little pink slip of a name to the temple worker, I was stunned at what I saw. No joke, this lady was sporting 3 inch long fingernails painted with what looked like gold glitter. There were sparkles on her temple dress, and white lace on her high heeled shoes. Ok, I was a temple worker for over a year, and I’m tellin’ ya, working a 5 hour shift in those babies just looked painful. I couldn’t even imagine how she could walk in those things, as the heels must have sunk down at least 4 inches into the soft carpet every step she took. She was also doing her best Tammy Faye Baker imitation. I tried not to stand too close for fear of getting smeared.
The whole effect among the rest of the plainly clothed white haired gnarled knuckled gentle grandmotherly temple matrons was completely jarring. And standing there, at the end of the endowment, which is really supposed to be the spiritual culmination of the whole thing, all I could think was, “Wow. Where are the fashion police when you need them, anyway?”
I’m so going to hell.
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