April 18, 2012

Dressing Room Dilemma

   Oh, the optimism of walking through a department store picking cute outfits, one after another.  The thought always crosses my mind that I have so many outfits picked out, that I really can't afford to buy all of them.  Then as that cold, miniature dressing room door shuts, things quickly go downhill.

   Today, I was shopping for a dress for an upcoming wedding.  The first dress I tried on was a sharp pencil skirt.  Those dresses do not flatter my thunder thighs at all, but they seduce me with how cute they look on the hanger.  Getting it on was a bit of struggle, but at least I didn't hear any strings tearing.  (Don't act like you've never tried something on just to hear that small ripping sound!). 

    I found that my hips don't lie, and that little pencil skirt looked  like a cobra swallowing a large mouse.  After a small sigh of resignation to my body type, I started lifting the dress over my head.  It got to my rib cage and abruptly stopped.  Hmmm... So then, I suck in a huge gulp of air and tug as hard as possible.  It didn't budge, but it did get to a point where it could neither go back down towards my hips or up to my shoulders.  I'm stuck with my arms and head trapped in the skirt portion, while my lower body is bare to the cold cruel world.  Now the panic starts sinking in.  I'm all by myself in this room, and I physically don't think I can get out of this outfit without the jaws of life and a few fireman to assist.  I keep up a steady mental mantra of, "You were able to put this dress on, so you should be able to get it off."

   I briefly think of yelling for help to the dressing room attendant, but she looked so tired and overworked.  I was afraid she would take one look at me, take a quick photo to post on facebook, and go to the manager and give her resignation.  So then the dress vs. woman wrestling match began.  I lean all the way over thinking that it might squeeze my ribs in a bit.  No luck.  Maybe the dress was catching on my bra.  Nope.  I put one foot on the wall for leverage, regret eating that banana muffin last night, get a good grip of the dress, and pull like I've never pulled before.  Pop.  I shoot out of that dress like a shaken up champagne bottle.  I won the battle, but the pencil skirt left me something to remember her by.  The clasp on the "cute, tiny" belt left a scrape up my side. 

     And that was just the first dress I tried on.  I had to look at myself in that horribly lit full length mirror and give myself a good pep talk.  Okay, so maybe you should never try a dress on that size ever again, but that doesn't mean there's not a perfect dress out there for you.  There are a lot more fish in the sea.  I vowed to that reflection that I wouldn't give up today and complemented my calves for looking great.

     Many dresses and many stores later, I found a dress I have fallen in love with.  Unfortunately, It's not dressy enough for a wedding, so my adventure will continue another day....