Not a tutu. A freaking tutu.
That’s what the voices in my head have been calling it and that’s its official name on this here blog.
I am of the opinion that tutus look good only on ballerinas and little girls. Definitely not on oversized women. That’s when it becomes a freaking tutu.
Originally, I was not amused by the idea of wearing a freaking tutu. This is going to be my first race and I’m nervous enough as it is without adding an accessory that not only will slow me down but will also look ridiculous on me.
However, I have done a lot of reading recently about a boy named Tanner who has Duchenne’s Muscular Dystrophy. DMD is a severe form of muscular dystrophy. It is always terminal and there is no cure. None. There is no hope for this child. His condition is aggressive and never ending; his muscles will break down continuously until the day he dies, which will be far too soon.
Can you imagine being the parent of a terminally ill child? When I found out that children who have DMD rarely live past the age of 12, I wanted to go find my almost-12-year-old and hug her tight. So I did.
What does this have to do with me running in a freaking tutu? A group of bloggers have gotten together and organized Tutus for Tanner, which is a way for runners to honor Tanner and also raise awareness about DMD. And, on a related note, a whole buncha bloggers will be wearing tutus at the BlogHer 5K. Including me.
So I’m going to wear my freaking tutu and show my support for Tanner and his family, including his aunt Her Bad Mother, who will be there too.
I made my freaking tutu this past weekend and it is, if I do say so myself, freaking fabulous. It is a frothy concoction of tulle and ribbons and sparkles. I have to admit that that I might, just might, be a tiny bit excited about wearing it, regardless of how ridiculous I’ll look.
Now, I know you’re thinking, “Jen, so you say you’re wearing the tutu and all that, but how do we know you’ll actually follow through? Will we get to see photos?”
I am a woman of my word and I promise you that I will post photos of me in the freaking tutu.
[And isn't there always a however?]
… you have to make it worth my while.
No, I don’t want you to bribe me. I do, however, want you to step up to the plate and show some love to the cause.
You’ve probably been wondering if I’m going to hit you up for money for the Run for Tanner and you’re right, here it is. I haven’t been able to put the code for the online giving button on my blog, so here are links to various bloggers who already have it: Her Bad Mother, Black Hockey Jesus, and Mom Improvement.
That’s right. In order to see photographic evidence of me in the freaking tutu, you have to click over to one of those online giving links I mentioned above and make a donation. $1, $5, $10, whatever you can afford. Then come back here and leave a comment telling me you did it. We’re going with an honor code here because I’m not going to go check up on all of you.
If at least 20 of you give, I’ll post the photos. Me, in my all black running gear, as well as a big ass freaking tutu.
If 40 of you join the cause, I’ll also wear a freaking tiara with the freaking tutu. Yes, that’s right. A freaking tiara. With sparkles and everything. I have no idea how I’ll keep it on my head during the run — short of duct tape — but by golly I’ll do it. And I’ll post photos here.
If 60 of you give, I’ll add freaking opera gloves to the whole freaking ensemble. Again, I’ll publish photographic evidence here.
If 80 Jen on the Edge readers step up to the plate, I’ll add freaking sparkly rhinestone jewelry to the freaking tutu, the freaking tiara, and the freaking opera gloves. Yes, there would be photos.
Go ahead, get the number up to 100 and see what else I can pull out of my wardrobe on the day of the race. Actually, I have no idea how to ramp things up, but if 100 of you support the Race for Tanner, I will figure it out. And then I’d post photos.
To sweeten this deal a bit, let me describe the freaking tutu:
First off, I used 75 yards of black 6″ tulle ribbon. That’s right, 225 feet of tulle ribbon. There was no tulle left behind and I seriously considered using more, except that the freaking tutu already weighs enough as it is.
Once I got all that together — and it took me the better part of an afternoon — I added ribbons. Lots and lots and LOTS of ribbons. Dozens of yards of the stuff. Sparkly ribbons. Glittery ribbons. Polka dotty ribbons. And more.
My freaking tutu is the Marie Antoinette of tutus.
When I put it on, I’m about 6′ wide, so anyone who’s planning to run the BlogHer 5K too might want to steer clear of me in case one of my wide hips accidentally knocks you off the path. I am not kidding.
You know you want to see photos of this, so go click one of those links I mentioned above.
Is that enough incentive for you? No? Then about about this:
Yep, that’s a sneak peek at the freaking tutu. The photo does not do it justice.
Still not enough incentive for you to pony up in the name of a good cause? Okay then, here you go:
This is Tanner and he needs our support. Our money won’t save his life, but it will help save the lives of other children. Give. Something. Anything. Just do it.
The freaking tutu and I will be ready.
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