Thursday, November 7, 2013

The Story of the Dress

So I generally try to look my best when I go to work. My mom and I went shopping just before I started working at Cedar Fort, and I have plenty of nice things.

But there are levels of looking nice.

So I had dressed up as nice as I could given how much laundry had been done, and I thought I was ready, but then as I was looking up where we would be going for dinner, I realized that the place was much, much, much nicer than I thought before.

I needed a dress.

Somehow, by God's grace, I had a dress, too. My mother-in-law had given me a dress as a hand-me-down weeks ago, but because of how busy I'd been lately, I hadn't gotten around to cleaning out the car, and the dress was still in my front seat.

So I ran to grab it. And wouldn't you know it had no sleeves? So I needed something to wear under or over it.

Lo and behold, my best friend, Deborah, was wearing a brown sweater that would go with the green dress!

So I rushed to the bathroom to change, but then I discovered something worse: the dress didn't fit. (Yeah, I know, I need to lose some of the post-marriage pudge).

I shoved the dress over my head and threw the sweater on over it and presented myself to my coworkers, who said I looked lovely. I just barely had enough time to put my clothes down when the vendors arrived.

It was a lovely dinner, and I had a great time, but I had to cut myself out of the dress when it was over.

And that is how a single hand-me-down dress saved me from wearing pants to a dinner that was so elegant they had separate plates for every little piece of food.