Okay, so as most of you know, I’m a tad “off” by just about anyone’s standards. My humor isn’t for everyone. I’m no stranger to saying or doing something that garners me odd looks, but today I think I have finally done something that just might top pulling a Lady-O.
A few weeks ago I decided two things:
1. I would attend a certain number of writers’ conferences this year with the idea that I’d meet some other authors as well as meet some of my readers.
2. I’d lose weight.
Neither of these goals are unobtainable. And actually, following a trip to a local Dillards where I found what I consider to be a very beautiful gown, appropriate to wear to one of those dinners they always have at a writers’ conference, I became more convinced I needed to do these things. (Well, and the neighbor asking when my baby was due was an added dosage of encouragement.)
The only problem with this dress is they didn’t have my size. Of course. So I bought the size they did have, and decided that it was a reasonable goal to have to be down to size *cough, cough*–excuse me, before the first writers’ conference.
But then, last month Her Secondhand Groom was named a finalist in the Silken Sands Star Contest and that pretty much meant one of the first conferences I would attend would be The Silken Sands Writers’ Conference in Pensacola Beach, FL….and it was less than a month away! This sent me into panic mode and I went from walking with the occasional spurt of jogging from one mile a day to 2.5 miles a day.
Two weeks later (last weekend), I tried on that dress and was surprised but disappointed at the same time when I got the zipper to go up halfway. While I was thrilled the zipper moved at all, panic set in. Oh my goodness, what I am going to do? I have to wear this thing in less than two weeks and I can’t even get the zipper halfway up–and that’s with wearing one of those slimming apparatuses. This is NEVER going to work. So then the cold, hard facts, set in, I should go to a different Dillards and see if they have a size *achoo!*, excuse me again, I must have the beginnings of a cold or something…
No! I will NOT go buy a bigger size. I’m always telling my boys they have to finish out the game, even if they’re losing, I need to do the same. So, I pry the dress off and shove it into the farthest corner of my closet, determined that within two weeks I WILL fit into it. But excluding an act of God, I’m going to have to do more than just walk 2.5 miles a day.
So I did. No soda. No snacking (very hard for me). Forget walking, one hour of riding a bike each day.
Which brings us to today…
With only a week left, I decided: I’d better try that dress on again and see if the zipper is any closer to the top.
With trembling fingers, I unzipped the gown and stepped into it. Then with a deep breath, grabbed the zipper. Hesitantly, I moved it up, and up, then up again. Excitement pounded in my veins. I was within millimeters of the halfway point and it hadn’t jammed. Thank goodness, at least I hadn’t gained weight! Then zip and sigh. Halfway! Being daring, I pushed it up again, just to see if it’d go. It went. Then I strained my aching arm again…and the zipper went up a bit more. So I tried it again. And again, the zipper edged up. I stopped. Better not press my luck, right? Half-jumping, half-skipping I went to find the full-length mirror I’d strategically positioned behind where our bathrobes hang and admired the dress. Yes, I know shame on me for an act of vanity, but I couldn’t help it. A dress that made me think I was going to pass out from “sucking it in” and wearing a form shaper the last time I wore it actually somewhat fit today.
But then I leaned over and the bodice gaped and what do you know? I pulled ANOTHER Lady-O. This would NOT do. I readjusted the bodice, but it still felt awkward. Loose! It felt loose. Hmm, maybe I should try to zip it a little more…
Craning my arm around again, I grabbed hold of that zipper and gave it one final tug and up, up, up it went until…until…until… it met the end of the zipper. I got it ALL THE WAY up.
I turned this way and that, taking in how the fluffy A-line skirt with a massive amount of itchy netting which masked unflattering bulge in the front before dropping to the floor. I walked across the room, then back the other way.
It was beautiful. The gown itself. Beautiful. The way it swished as I walked. Beautiful. The way it covered up the less flattering parts of myself. Beautiful. The only thing that wasn’t was the itchy fabric that made it puffy. Oh well, I’d just need to wear a pair of hose, then I won’t feel it as much.
Then, my moment of vanity passed and it was time to take it off…
Except there’s one little hitch: I cannot grip the zipper. Reaching way up overtop my head, my fingers brush the cold metal, but can’t grip it. Still extending that arm, I use my other hand to push on my extend elbow. We’ve all done this. One arm isn’t stretching as far as we’d like, so pushing on it with the other will magically get it to its intended destination. Except it didn’t. My fingertips were still brushing the cold metal but not quite there and that darn netting was scraping up and down my leg. I lower my aching arms and rethink my strategy. Aha, reach behind my back. That’s how I got it up, isn’t it? I swear sometimes that common sense escapes me.
So reaching behind my back, I fruitlessly reach for that darn elusive zipper. How is it that I got it pushed up there, but now I can’t get it down? This is one of those mysteries in life I think we all wonder sometimes. However, I wish I didn’t have to ponder it while wearing a Regency-shaped evening gown with so much itchy, stiff, netting that I’m starting to wonder if it’s the dress or if I got into some poison ivy!
Thirty minutes later, I have tried to maneuver myself into about 100 different positions in an effort to get this dress unzipped and that zipper is still all the way at the top and I am about to pass out from exhaustion. Seriously, who knew trying on a dress would turn into such a workout?
This was at 7:30 CST this morning and now… Yeah.
So today I get to wear a very lovely gown that by the time my husband comes home and is able to help me get it off, I’ll never want to see again!
Perhaps this wasn’t as bad as pulling a Lady-O, but considering that I will get to spend a lot of time in this gown today, I must humbly admit that I am often the queen of finding myself in awkward situations and do not be surprised if a future heroine if mine finds herself in a similar situation.
I hope you all got at least a smile or a nod of understanding out of this tale. I am now going to find something I can do for the remainder of the day that doesn’t involve sitting (so not to crush my skirt, of course) or risk getting anything on myself…
Have a great weekend, everyone!