Sausage casing or short and sassy, that is the question!

I’m not sure what I detest more – dress shopping or bathing suit shopping
A special occasion looms over my head like the albatross that followed me home on my last run in 90 degree heat. I put it off as long as I possibly could, telling myself I didn’t need to buy a dress, I could just wear something that I already had, when plans changed and I HAD to buy a dress, i started the pilgrimage to the mecca of finding something that actually fit, that I liked, and wasn’t that expensive. Oh, dress fairy take me away!

I figure if I’m looking for a dress, then the best place to head is the mall – another thing I haven’t done in over 3 years. I’m amazed at how different it looks, where did all these young girls come from – shouldn’t they be in school. I’m looking for pink, so as I travel the different stores I encounter all types of tiny girls looking at the same dresses I’m looking at.

“Man, the smallest size they have here is a 1---that’s not going to work,” little girl smacking her gum says to her friend busy texting someone else.
“OK Ginger, try on the 1 sometimes things are cut small,” texter replies back. bitch is all I can think.

I look at the 4 in my hand and go back to try it on, when it feels like a sausage casing on my skin, I leave everything there in the dressing room and leave. The next store, the clerk takes one look at me and doesn’t even bother to come and see if she can help me. I leave before I find out if it’s either the money issues, or all the dresses are really too young or they only carry the pencil sizes! At another store, the clerk tries to steer me to a Moo Moo looking caftans that would make me look like a big pink balloon – no, thank you very much.

I wonder if I’ve moved out of the cute dress to the smart dress – have I become JCPenny? Do they have real sizes where a 4 really feels like a 4? I travel to another place that carries a lot of pink and am amazed that when the sales person asks what I want, she says, “oh, you’re a size 0 here.” It’s all in the perception, isn’t it? I puff up in pride, the last time I was a 0 was probably high school, I could shop here all the time saying, “Oh, the smallest size they have is a 2,” while some other women looks at me with a frown. I know EXACTLY what she's thinking.

Then I wonder, how short the skirt? What’s appropriate – of course my butt hanging out is out, but should I go knee, or mid-thigh or as most doctors like to say “at my age” should I go DOWN? I want be fun so I pull a few that are all different lengths and sizes because it’s obvious size doesn’t matter when it comes to dresses. The sausage casings last a few seconds on, the one’s I’m hanging out of hit the floor, the ones I can’t even get up are tossed on the bench. I find one that I like, “hey this looks pretty good,” but the 200 price tag has that put VERY CAREFULLY back on the hanger. There’s even one I can’t understand which strap goes where until I’m tied up in a knot it in praying I don’t have to call the salesperson for a pair of scissors

After several attempts at liking ones that too expensive I settle on two REASONABLY priced dresses, I need another opinion. I take a picture of each one and text my husband asking which he liked, he is the one stuck looking at it. After sending the messages, I realize I’ve done what Rep Weiner has done, become a wiener sending pictures of myself over the internet, albeit that I did have clothes on. When there’s no response, I figure I’ll go with the one I like, just short enough to make me feel sassy but grown up enough to not make me look like a tramp. I walk out the door vowing to go on a diet and never have to shop for a dress again. Maybe I can hire a personal shopper put a pillow around her middle and let her go and try on the dresses for me.

My internet pictures don’t come to haunt me, my dress sits in the closet when I realize that I have another problem. What shoes am I going to wear with it?