So, some of you who know me well, already know that I have been seeing someone for a couple of months. I don’t talk about him here. Not because I don’t want to, it would be fun sometimes, but because I get the distinct impression he would not appreciate it. But for the purpose of this story, he will be mentioned.
Sometimes spending time with him is a bit like having a girlfriend around. Shopping, which is something I don’t particularly care for, is one of those situations that illustrates this well. I couldn’t care less about designers and name brands. For a long time, all I wanted to buy was black or white clothes because it was easier. On top of that, I weighed more and never liked how I looked in clothing, nor did clothing fit properly. With the weight lost, shopping is a bit more fun but for me, though it will never be something I want to do frequently. Not so with the significant other. He loves name brands (but only on sale and only if he truly believes the fabric and patterns to be of a higher quality than other clothing.) He knows his designers. He absolutely loves to shop and does so every weekend. He doesn’t always buy but he somehow just HAS to look. If I am with him, I cannot escape the inevitable “Let’s see what they might have for you!” Now, I have to give him credit for being a great shopping buddy because I still think I am a much larger size than I am, and I cannot seem to pick out things with nice “contrast” a concept that he holds very dear when choosing clothing. I have found that my best bet is to pick a few things off the racks, doesn’t matter what it is, just grab the first few things, and get to a dressing room. This way, I don’t actually have to search through the racks of clothing that I find so overstimulating and frustrating. I just try on those first few things and the clothes keep coming. I go out to show one outfit and there are more waiting for me. Resistance is futile. I can say “No No, I don’t fit into a small” and he will say “Just try it, I think it looks like it will fit.” I have realized that I am wrong every time. No amount of internal eye rolling seems to change this fact. I’ve given up, I just go with it. What he chooses looks and fits better than things I would choose for myself. He has a good eye for clothing.
That brings us to Saturday evening’s shopping experience. We went to the local upscale department store which was having a large sale. We spent a good deal of time looking through the men’s department and finding great stuff. I was even enjoying myself because I DO enjoy a sale and finding something inexpensive. When Ralph Lauren is 75% off with an additional 30% off of that, it starts to be very affordable and doesn’t make me slightly ill when looking at it. Also, my advice was being asked for in regards to Ralph Lauren hand knit sweaters. Ask me my opinion about hand knits and my heart is yours! (No hand knits were bought during this shopping experience, I didn’t like the necklines).
Then there was the inevitable “Let’s see what they might have for you!” accompanied by a giggle. *insert my internal eye rolling here* So off we go. I don’t see anything nice or new or on sale in the area I usually frequent. I remember that the last time, all the women’s clothing sales were up front. We head to the front where I am seeing many sales racks but his eye is caught by an Antonio Melani section. This siren’s call I am apparently immune to as the name means nothing to me. He spots a beautiful dress and drags me over to it. I look first at the price tag. Frankly, I couldn’t care less if it is on sale, my opinion is that over $100 is still not a deal. At this point I am ignoring the additional 30% off. Beautiful dress though! He argues that you can’t get Antonio Melani for under $200. I say it isn’t a deal if it doesn’t fit and I know it isn’t going to fit. I check the sizes. Yeah, 0, 2, 4, the highest we get is a size 10. I am still in size 16 and recently was able to buy a dress in size 12 but I assumed that was a fluke. I ignore his wanderings through this pricey section and wander out to the sales racks. All juniors out there, and we KNOW that isn’t going to fit. He draws me back to what can only be referred to as “the” dress. I am asked to take another look. I do so with my nose practically in the air. I don’t need no stinkin’ designer dress. But as I touch it, it is calling to me too. The linen is so thick and heavy, the embroidery so beautiful. It has tiny little wooden beads all over it. I have jewelry that would match. It is fully lined. It is really beautiful. My biggest issue here is that I don’t fit in a size 10 and trying it on is only going to make me feel poorly about myself. But I have someone begging me to try it on. So I decide I am going to, and when it won’t fit over my hips I am gonna walk out of that dressing room anyhow. I’ll show HIM I am thinking! So grudgingly I pick up that size 10 dress and wander off to the dressing room. Man, that dress feels nice! I try it on. The dress is now teasing me. It floats over my hips. No way, that means the zipper isn’t going to zip. Coming tantalizingly close to fitting into something beautiful is far worse than it not fitting at all. I know that zipper isn’t going to zip! *zzziiippp* What’s this? It zipped?!?! I double check to make sure it is all the way to the top. It isn’t even tight. Something is seriously wrong here! I look in the mirror. Oh man, I like the way this dress looks. And feels. Did I mention the tiny wooden beads? It is stunning! I look good. Really good. But really, what is the point? I have no where to wear this dress and it is the end of the season. I can take it off now and pretend it doesn’t fit. That would save me a lot of trouble. Yet my mind is racing with the potential of what stole or wrap I can knit for it and I know I am looking better than I have in a long time. My hand goes to the doorknob to walk out and show it off. I hesitate. I know if I show off this dress, it is as good as mine. I tempt fate and open the door anyhow. From him I get the head nod that says “Looks great!” But from other shoppers I get exclamations!
Have I mentioned the beautiful tiny wooden beads?
He insisted that I have the dress. He insisted on buying it. It was a good price but way more than I would spend on a dress. It is high quality, it is beautiful. I was told if it makes me feel better I won’t get a Christmas gift but that I would have this dress. I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry because I realized that I look good right now. I wanted to cry because someone cared enough to notice. I wanted to cry because I don’t think I have ever owned clothing that beautiful. But instead of crying, we went to Starbucks.
2 tall mocha’s later, we are discussing what color wrap I should make for it. I want to go with beige (the safe color) he wants a light sagey green. (contrast, remember?) I say, “You know, we should start looking for a winter dress for the upcoming wedding in my family.” I get the head nod. I say “I think if we look now we have plenty of time and I won’t feel stressed. If you help me look, I know you will give me an honest opinion and I really need your eye!” He pretends to hand me his eye. Now I am laughing for the rest of the evening.
Did I tell you there are tiny little wooden beads all over that dress? So pretty!