I’m about to bare my soul in this post. I’m still not sure whether I should be writing this or not, but it’s too late now, so here goes…

I’ve just gone back to working three full days a week as my youngest baby heads off to preschool this year. I’m very blessed by the fact I’m actually working for myself and have opened a private nutrition practice, Kate Freeman Nutrition, in serviced office suites in the city. It’s a dream come true!

As I was walking through the office suites the other day, getting myself a glass of water from the kitchen, I was feeling like an impostor. It’s been five years since I’ve set foot in the corporate world and there’s a part of me feeling like I don’t really belong…

This awkward feeling lead me to remember another awkward time on my very first day working in the corporate world almost eight years ago. Here is the story of that day…

I was fresh out of uni with my first nutrition degree and I was stoked. I’d been hired by a corporate health consulting company whose clients are large organisations, mostly government, offering personalised health coaching to their employees. I was officially a trainee health consultant and my first day involved sitting in on one-on-one consultations to see how it was done.

Prior to this job, I’d been working in a gym. Hence, I was excited about ditching the trackies and sneakers for a more sophisticated look. I was gonna be a smokin’ hot corporate chick, in my own mind, so I acquired myself a new skirt, blouse and heels. Bring on Monday!

The problem was I was 21, highly unorganised and hopelessly absentminded. Monday came around and this is what happened.

Being inherently lazy back then, I slept in. Pushed for time, I skipped breakfast, got dressed in my new outfit, threw my hair into a messy bun (the look when there is no time for anything else) and ran out the door. As I got into the car I looked down at my legs. They were bare, dry and extraordinarily hairy. Perhaps about 3-4 weeks of good growth. It was mammothly gross!

I thought I’d quickly stop by Woolies and grab a pair of stockings. Great idea, go Kate!

I found a parking spot and started pulling on my new stockings. The problem was, because of my complete lack of attention to detail, in my hurry to get to work on time I bought the wrong size. They were too small and the crotch only made it the half-way up my thighs! Crap!

Meanwhile, with my skirt up around my stomach, I started to realise that public servants were arriving for work. Streams of them were walking past my car and most likely seeing my naked bottom half. Good lord! I was so embarrassed. I quickly pulled my skirt back down. I needn’t have worried, it got a LOT worse.

I decided that the stocking crotch between my thighs was not that bad. My skirt came just below the knee. No-one would know, I’d be fine. I got out of the car.

It turns out that it’s really hard to walk when you can’t create a gap between your thighs more than two inches due to a remarkably low stocking crotch. So as I’m hobbling along in my heels through the car park looking like a complete nincompoop, I decided that this would NOT do. I will make the stockings come all the way up.

I hitched up my skirt to a socially acceptable level and yanked my stockings so hard from the ankles that I created a massive run in each leg going all the way up to my knees. Bugger…

The runs were too extreme to keep the stockings on, I looked like a homeless person. So, in the middle of the car park I kicked off my shoes and removed the stockings. I had to make a call, three week growth leg stubble or homeless girl stockings… What would you choose?

I shoved the stockings into a bin as I waltzed into the building. I had once heard someone say that you have to ‘fake it, till you make it’. At 21 this sounded like great advice so I held my head high, met my new colleague in the foyer and my first day began.

Phew! It wasn’t so bad. I received a small chat about the importance of being on time, at which I completely agreed and said that it wouldn’t happen again and away we went, crisis averted. Or so I thought…

After a brief run down of the day and pleasant get-to-know-you conversation it was almost time for our first participant’s appointment. I decided to quickly go to the loo.

I peed (too much information?). As I’m fixing up my skirt, I discover that in the carpark stocking chaos, I had completely ripped the satin inner lining of my skirt from top to bottom. Drat! Oh well, I thought, at least people can’t see it.

As I walked back to the office, I felt rather uncomfortable. After some discrete hip wriggling I realise that the skirt lining is stuck in my g-string. Argh! How annoying! I seriously hate lining stuck in my g-string. This would not do.

I returned to the office and my colleague declares that he too needs to go to the bathroom. He leaves. Great! I thought, I can quickly fix my g-string debacle.

I quickly closed the office door, pulled my skirt right up to my stomach completely exposing my bottom, pulled my g-string out of my crack, untangled the lining, had a little wriggle to make sure all was good and pulled my skirt back down. I sigh with relief, that feels better.

A few minutes later, my colleague walked back into the room. He went straight over to the window and started closing the blinds. Ohhhhh no, I had forgotten about the window.

As I watched the blinds come slowly down, I realised that just outside the window were the cafe tables and chairs. There was a gentleman just outside the window, sitting at a table with his coffee and a paper. He was looking straight at me. His eyes were wide and he looked at little stunned. The blinds closed and I sat down. I hope I never see that man again…

The moral of the story: Never wear a g-string on a Monday.

Have you had an embarrassing corporate experience? Please, please please share! It would really make me feel better!