There’s no way around it – alas – as I am going to attend a wedding this summer, and a quick perusal of my closet confirmed that the fraying t-shirts, badly pilled sweaters and saggy bum jeans hanging limply inside were not going to cut it.
If there is anything I hate more than wearing a dress (which means I will have to double up on the mosquito lotion over the summer so that I don’t have legs that look like I have chicken pox) it’s shopping for a dress.
This could relate back to the days when dressing rooms in clothes stores (or boutiques as they were called at the time) were communal. Remember that?
It was somewhat akin to a sausage stuffing factory for the most part – as ample limbs and other body bits fought valiantly to fit inside various clothing items two sizes too small – everyone flushed and sweaty and trying not to look at the person beside them or the mirror.
Then of course, there was always the one super model in the room, standing unabashedly almost naked in her perfect body that would have looked good in a brown leaf bag, as everyone else thought defiantly about doughnuts. Who wouldn’t rather be happy than gorgeous?
Today, thankfully, I can lock myself away in a little cubicle and embarrass myself in private, only slightly disconcerted by the look on the shop assistant’s face, as she comes to unlock the door for me, that quite obviously says ‘you’re not seriously going to try that on, are you?’
I have considered purchasing online, but knowing how accurately the sizing charts and the pictures depict the real clothing (on that same damn super model again), I decided it would likely cost more in postage sending multiple items back than the dress itself would cost.
I could also cut up a bed sheet and drape it around in a classic Greek style, stick a few flowers in my hair and let everyone think that the old girl has finally lost her marbles. Flaw in that plan is, they might not let me into the reception. Nope, not risking free food.
Well, the search must begin I suppose, which is why I am starting early, so that I can contemplate the perfect attire until about two days before the wedding, when I will have to stop procrastinating (another word for contemplating) and actually go and buy something.
I do have a bit of a secret weapon, though. A sister who has an excellent sense of style. I am thinking I will just let her dress her frumpy old sister and there’s a good chance I won’t get turned away at the door as a vagrant.
by angela lovell 