Whoever coined that phrase was probably a size 0.
Shopping can be fun when you’re fitting into smaller sizes. As I was dropping 100 pounds on Atkins, I remember spending a lot of my free time haunting the sale racks at Ross. I did a little happy dance each time I fit into something a size smaller than usual. It was a fantastic feeling.
Now that my weight’s been going in the other direction, I only shop when I have to. (And the last time I had to do any serious shopping was last summer.) But I need a formal gown for the big awards gala, so it was off to the shops for me.
I started at Kohl’s. They didn’t have any formal dresses, but I found a cute dress I could wear sometime during the conference. (Business casual isn’t something I currently have in my closet. Yoga pants, jeans, sweats … but nothing I can wear when I’m “dressing to impress” editors, agents and famous authors in NYC.)
Then I hit Ross. I found a couple of more formal gowns there — or maybe they were more like cocktail dresses, since they hit my knee. One didn’t fit at all — but that was okay, because I really didn’t like its color anyway. The other two were … meh at best
Warning: The pictures you are about to see reveal just how far from my ideal weight I’ve gotten. Guess this has become more of an “adventures in life” year on the blog. Plus, I now realize how awful the lighting is in dressing rooms. I don’t think I got a decent shot.
(And I really don’t love the white ankle socks. Note to self: Next time you go dress shopping, wear sandals.)
The other dress I found at Ross was just a little tight. It was black, also knee-length, and looked kind of like this. It wasn’t ruffled, though; it was ruched. Again, it was just okay.
Next, I drove out to the mall. I stumbled onto a J.C. Penney doorbuster sale on prom dresses — except the two I found in an 18/20 didn’t even come close to fitting. That was too bad, because I liked them — at least on the hanger. On me, it could have been a different story. One was a black and white print, the other was coral with sequins and faux crystals. Better yet, they were $200, marked down to $100 for the sale.
While at the mall, I stopped at the plus-sized stores I was so smug about never needing to visit when they opened a couple of years ago. (Karma, perhaps?) Torrid had a couple of cute dresses.
That made the mall a bust. I stopped at Subway for lunch — one of their orchard chicken salad 6-inch subs (my first!) topped with spinach, tomatoes, onion, cucumber and black olives. Pretty tasty. I skipped the chips and a drink to save a few bucks … and then bought a chocolate-dipped coconut macaroon for dessert. (So I had success and then failure.
My final stop of the day was a dress shop called Pure Elegance in one of the strip malls.
There were a couple of dresses I liked, including this one:
It’s my favorite so far, but even this one I’m not in love with — partly because of its price tag. That sucker is $300. (The other one I like, a red one with a beaded bodice, is $320.) And that’s not including shoes, proper undergarments and accessories!
I don’t want to settle for a dress that’s just okay; I deserve a dress I love. I’m thinking I may have to drive down to Phoenix next weekend, on my days off, to check more stores. Surely a bigger city will have a larger selection of formal dresses … even for plus-sized folks.
I told the Boyfriend that if I plunk down $300 on a dress, I’m gonna wear it when we run off to Vegas and get married. He didn’t seem all that impressed by this dress — or the comment.
Here’s the kicker to compound the bad mood brought on by an unsuccessful shopping excursion. When I got to work, I read a letter in Dear Abby from a poor 13-year-old who was whining that even though she wore a size 0, her mother made her buy a closet full of size 2s.
Would that we all had that problem. 😛