OK I am back from another round of shopping for a fancyschmancy dress for the Damn THree Tenors, whom I'm starting to resent a lot, and they better not miss a note after all this trouble they've caused me. But the invitation reads BLACK TIE in bold, which I assume means, "don't f*** with us, we mean really fancy, and nothing from five seasons ago is acceptable. and don't even THINK Walmart."
Dan went to buy new accessories for his tux- that's drastic.
We leave tomorrow, and I am still dressless. I'm having a glass of wine and then heading out again. I have exhausted the outlets, and now must face the mall.
I have lost two pounds since yesterday by drinking nothing but soypowder and skim milk. I figure if you look at the pounds I need to lose by tomorrow (20), I'm really halfway there (the 2 is gone). Even better, there are 0 left to lose.
Which is how I'm justifying the glass of wine.
I tried on everything. I finally went to Saks, even though I hate going into stores like Neiman's or Saks. THey totally intimidate me. I always think that they'll ask me for ID- some sort of card that says I 've been approved to enter and browse the golden racks of elite namebrand merchandise. BUt I'm desperate. Surely they should have something. Well, they do if you are 6 feet tall and weigh 55 pounds, like the girl who was suspiciously counting garments when I went into the dressing room. Now come on, I know they are "upscale", but this was insane. Everyone who works there has on a headset and they mutter to each other constantly. I heard one man say- "Go to Camera 5-"
I SWEAR that's what he said..
One dress I got really excited about-- it was straight and black, with fringe around the bottom and when I looked at the tag, it said HARLOT.
Wow!! I just had to have a dress made by, or for, Harlots!
So I took it to the dressing room, where the suspicious girl, who was 6 feet tall and weighed 55 pounds said, How many garments. LIke it was so hard to tell? One hanger? One small piece of black cloth?
I asked for the dressing room with camera 5..
I am for some reason compelled to try to ingratiate myself with hired help. I think it's a reaction against my mother, a normally lovely, kind person, but she had this attitude about salespeople-she used to actually SAY this.. "They're not human."
I then said, "OH, could I borrow your body for this weekend?"
She looked nonplussed- but said sure.
You know how you say something and then realize how incredibly stupid it sounds? LIke she probably thought I was asking her for a date. ANd so you try to get out of it- heh heh-- I mean....I want to be tall and anorexic...hehehe
I felt so dumb.
Then I noticed I had read the tag wrong- it said HARLOW.
Harlow. WHat kind of sexy label is that. I put it back.
Then I found a great flowing silky pants and top and it fit and it even had this great scarf thing that I thought I could fling around for emphasis at the oh so elegant black tie dinner, but when I went to pay (it was 355 marked down to 129) I noticed it was torn on the shoulder.I said, this is damaged, and I'll try to fix it, but I don't want to pay full price if it's unfixable. Is there a discount for damaged stuff?
Well!!! You;'d have thought I had drooled on his Armani jacket.
I could tell he was thinking, who let HER out of Target?
And he got on his headset and pretty soon, someone appeared with a big book, and they went through this routine.
And said they'd give me 10.00 off -and it wasn't returnable. So I left. And now I regret it, because I really don't want to go to the mall and start over. ANd who the hell cares if it has a hole.
God I hate this.
This is what I would like.
Let's put a diamond collar and leash on Stumpy. Or maybe one on Dash. ANd I'll take them to Saks and they can deal with these people. |
