Dress Shopping...Oh How I Hate Thee

I went shopping for my formal dress a while ago. I have to tell you, I'm completely scarred by the experience. Let me just say quickly that I HATE shopping. Well, that't not entirely true, I guess. I hate trying on clothes and going to buy them...but I adore having new clothes. So it's sort of a horrible dichotomy for me.

Anyway, I reluctantly went dress shopping for my formal with my mother (who, I might mention, I have discovered in the light of these events to be a complete sadist). So we went to this one shop and it was absolutely COVERED with dresses, hideous, horrible dresses. We were attended to by a fat and horrible lady who nearly had a heart attack when I told her, "No, I don't want any other dresses that are a size sixteen, they don't fit. I am a size eight or ten." Naturally, the only midly attractive dresses had already been purchased by people from my school.

[Side Note: We also saw a girl there who was around my age trying on wedding dresses. She was crying, her friends and her mum were crying, I swear there was a complete random who was in a puddle of tears over the fact that this girl was so 'lucky' to have found the love of her life while still a teenager and that she was fulfilling her 'dream' of having a baby at seventeen.]

As we were leaving the shop my mother committed a HUGE social faux pas. She (I did too, admittedly) thought that an acquaintance of mine was trying on a dress [huge, poofy, mildly nauseating to look at] as a joke. So she sort of had a bit of banter and light teasing about the dress and then we walked away. However, the girl then marched up to the counter and purchased the dress. We were a bit shocked and embarrassed to say the least.

So we went to another store. This one was smaller, a bit shabbier, A WHOLE LOT MORE TERRIFYING. There was only us in the shop and another group who was a bride and, I presume, her bridesmaids. The bride was a little bit more on the chunky side and it was horrible to see her getting progressively more and more upset as she tried on dresses that were too tight or that didn't look very good. Eventually she left looking close to tears. I just wanted to hug her.

However, meanwhile, I was dealing with some demons of my own. Namely: my mother and this...I don't even know how to describe her shop assistant. The assistant was tall, ridiculously thina and tan with more make-up than Madonna. Srsly. Admittedly, my request for 'no satin, no glitter, no beading and no patterns' was not entirely fulfillable - the shop was so not me. Nevertheless, she tried her best I suppose.

Nothing could dissuade her from bringing over the MOST ugly dresses in the shop. And of course, my lovely, darling mother, when asked to approve the dresses responded with a "oh yes, I think she'll like that very much." She was absolutely *loving* watching me try on horrible dress after horrible dress. I hadn't the heart to tell the shop assistant that she had bad taste. Several times I called my mother in to 'help me with a dress' only to whisper to her that she "had better get me out of here right now. Right now!" Her only response was an evil cackle and a, "God, no. I'm having the time of my life."

I was standing in front of the mirror in possibly the worst dress yet (orange and magenta paisley, more sparkly than a South African diamond mine) when Shop Assistant decided that it needed, of all things, an obnoxiously large, purple diamonte brooch. She also had no qualms about sticking her hand down my top to put it on. Then, as if my humiliation were not sufficient viewing for her alone, she called over all of the other assistants to 'see the new dress.' "God how it fits her so well!" "You've got a lovely little figure don't you!" They then proceeded to touch me in inappropriate places..."Forgive me, oh, I'm so sorry. I just have to see the way the dress outlines your calves." My interjection: "Um...WHAT?!"

I had had enough. I went into the dressing room and called in my mother. I was serious, I meant business. "Get me out of here." I said, looking her firmly in the eye. She burst into laughter, giving me no reponse. "I mean it. I want out. Now. I'm not going to the formal if it means spending another second in this infernal shop with these blasted people!" This only caused her to laugh harder. "I hate you! I honestly honestly hate you right now!"

She unzipped the dress and left the room, unable to contain her laughter. Once outside the shop assistant cornered her again. "Oh, it's so nice to see a mother and a daughter spending time here on a Saturday. Usually it's just the girl and her friends. It's so wonderful to see you have such a wonderful bond."

My mother, the evil vixen that she is replied, "Yes. We love each other so much, don't we Meg?"

Needless to say, I dressed in a silent rage. Once outside, and I'm not even joking, the shop assistant looked genuinely disappointed that I wasn't wearing her next pick. "Oh, I'm afraid that we're probably going to go look at some other shops, you know, look at the options" I said, smiling sweetly.

"Oh. Alright." She said, looking around for her label book. "Do you think you liked anything enough for me to put it on hold...or even to purchase?"

"No." I said, looking her in the eye for probably the first time. "I think we'll check some more out." I swear she practically flew to give me a hug and thank me for being such a 'delightful customer and model'. I was like "...". I think I've never felt so happy or relieved as when I got out of that shop. I could breathe again.

I am actually going to the formal. But luckily mother has decided to allow me to buy the dress online, made to measure, of course. But I still think I'll be permanently traumatised. This story actually happened quite a while ago (I'm slack, I'm sorry), so my dress will probably be arriving in about a week or so. I'm so excited. I'll make sure to post pictures when I get it.

xoxo,
Megan