Probably why I shouldn’t be allowed to go for events like these

Apparently today is International Women’s Day, a day that we’re supposed to celebrate women, whatever that means. I usually don’t keep track of things like that unless it involves me getting a little bling from Tiffany’s.

Somehow I got invited by Nanzinc to go for a little get together with a group of women at Overeasy, right by One Fullerton. I was expecting like 50 or so women having cocktails and I was hoping to slip in unnoticed at the back and kind of like blend in, you know, because I’m socially retarded at these kinds of events. Also, it suddenly occurred to me that Motherinc is awkwardly similar to Nanzinc, which is like showing up to a party thrown by Angelina Jolie wearing the exact same dress as her. Awkward.

And unlike Nanzinc, whose name was inspired by Cindy Inc and is supposed to connote wonderful things like personal branding, female entrepreneurship and a strong positive mindset, Motherinc was solely derived because Monsters Inc was my favorite Pixar animation of all time. Stop judging me.

So as it turned out, I had to reach fashionably late because I have 2 kids to settle and I walked in to find 12 women all seated at a long table chatting over nachos. Which was right about the time I started to panic because you can’t blend in when there are only 12 and all of them turns to look at you. Then I got closer and I realised that these were some of the most successful women in the entire country. Women who win awards and give important speeches and sip bubbly at chichi events. Like Nanz Chong, Theresa Tan and Elim Chew. Sweet.

I made my grand entrance and as I looked around the table at all these over-achieving women, all I could think of was “I’m pretty sure they invited the wrong person. I’m going to have to pretend to be whoever it is. Play it cool. Breathe, come on.”

Turns out, they actually meant to invite me but I’m guessing the only reason why that is so is because I represent the bourgeoisie. Except that I have no job and no actual skills to contribute at the meeting so I’m still a little fuzzy on what I was supposed to do there besides actually having lunch.

It is exactly at critical moments like these that I suddenly freak out because I couldn’t be sure if part of my bra was peeking out because it would be monumentally embarrassing if I sat through the entire lunch flashing my bra at these ladies. I thought of fiddling with it or checking discreetly but it would then draw unnecessary attention to it, which would be counterproductive.

So there I was, trying to furrow my brow and look intelligent and as they talked about important stuff like helping women to do better and giving back to society. I think I did my part by eating the killer mac and cheese. But I wasn’t sure if that was enough so I went back home to burn a bra for good measure.

Still, happy International Women’s Day, ladies. Flash a bra or something. It’s your right.