Get the Memo?
So, I have a narcissistic sister who my mother groomed to be the golden child. She has to constantly be the center of attention. She’s one of those people who can’t be bothered doing things that are boring or icky, and lives for attention. Her need for attention often involves the way she dresses, meaning often objectively “inappropriate”.
As in, she’ll wear very light beige to weddings. A funeral for an elderly relative came with a request to wear traditional mourning colors (black, navy, grey) for a rosary service in a Catholic Church, and she showed up in a lime green short dress. “People expect me to look attractive”. I have numerous stories on that front, just trust me on it.
My mom refused to address this throughout the years, so it’s a fact of life. I just sort of expect it. Anyway, another major narcissist in the family was being presented with an award from the state government at the capitol, several hours away. It was a huge honor and a very conservative organization. We were sent multiple copies of a strict protocol on dressing for the event, which was basically business evening dress of suits in blue, black, grey or burgundy.
You were supposed to wear low heel shoes and no flashy jewelry. Media would be present, we could not be late, you needed your invitation to enter, there were pointers on who you can approach, etc. The day of, I calculated the drive time and everyone loaded in the vehicle. My sister as usual wasn’t ready. My mom was making excuses, also as usual.
I told her we were leaving in five minutes with whomever was in the car because if we were late, we could not attend the reception. My mom ran inside and told my sister I was being “difficult” and to hurry up. She came down the steps with my mom. I saw what she was wearing and groaned. I told everyone else in the car to not say anything because if we had to wait for her to change, we would be late and it would just be a fight and not worth it.
I figured if it was a huge issue, they would stop her at the door. I knew the relative getting the award would be angry but I figured it was better that only one of us was in trouble rather than all of us being late. She had on a tropical sundress in bright turquoise with palm trees and parrots on it and strappy sandals—something you would wear to a barbecue.
She had on big beachy jewelry. Everyone in the vehicle was wearing a black suit with black pumps. No one said a word and I could see that my sister was angry that no one commented on how cute she looked. We arrived with about two minutes to spare. We walked into the reception and it was 100 people standing in small groups talking.
We were greeted by the head official and my sister entered last. Probably half the room turned and stared. There was an awkward silence and then whispering. Every single person was wearing a dark suit except one elderly lady who wore a dark purple dress. From across the room, I see the relative that is being honored with a “what the heck” look on his face.
I just shrugged. My sister messed up bad. She knew it too; she spent the entire evening in the restroom. The relative lost their mind, and my mom tried to blame me because somehow I did not give my sister enough time to get dressed? Of course, my relative pointed out that if she had time to put on a sundress, she had time to put on a black skirt and button-down blouse.
A month later, my mom was telling relatives I embarrassed the family because I didn’t make my sister go in and change, even though everyone got the same email. This is what happens in a nasty family.