Wednesday, February 22, 2012

All the girls walk by/dressed up for each other

Dancing, 9/24/11
Nick and I went to a wedding as married people on Saturday, for the first time. An hour before the ceremony, Nick said "let's walk there" and so we did. You can always count on him for that sort of thing, it rules. The bride used to be my boss, she took a chance on a kid in a JCPenney skirtsuit and a somewhat enigmatic resume two years ago. Now we are friends, she even did my makeup for my wedding since I am not capable of achieving anything on the cosmetics spectrum between daytime and drag queen. We congratulated, we toasted, we ate. I danced through my tights, even though Nick and I were basically alone on the dance floor. (So it's true! There are weddings where people don't really dance. Huh.)

Last week, I realized I didn't have anything suitable to wear to an evening winter wedding as my dresses (and they are many) are either cotton shifts for the office or sundresses. A few years ago, I would have frantically run out to some awful fast-fashion circle of hell and grabbed some cheapy ersatz frock and called it close enough for jazz. And it would have been too short for me, because despite being just 5'8" and not terribly leggy, everything is too short for me.

I sent Lauren a message at 4:30 p.m. on Wednesday asking her if she could help me out. I went straight to her apartment from work and she had 10 dresses laid out on her bed oh and here's some wine and cheese and crackers. What a hero. The first one I tried on was just the ticket (I tried on all the other ones anyway) and it made me nostalgic for living with girls. I used to love trading clothes with my sister growing up, with Jenn in college. (Not Michelle due to her being a tiny human. I do miss living with you though, Michelle. Nick judges my TV choices. The nerve.)

The last time I visited Jenn, I felt so stale from riding in an under-air-conditioned bus full of strangers' farts for two hours that I more or less begged to borrow a dress to wear to dinner as soon as I set foot in her apartment. She said "definitely" because have you met Jenn? and it was the best.

Borrowing beats the hell out of consuming. Which reminds me, I need to dry-clean the very lovely lace dress I wore on Saturday. Dancing alone to "Brick House" in front of 100 stationary onlookers is a sweaty business.

4 comments:

  1. Hah. Please dont dry clean. That's a waste of money. Learned this great tip from a guy I dated who never did laundry. You just keep the dress on a hanger and light incense directly underneath. Works like a charm.

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    1. Then you smoke a joint no-hands, make ta-da hands, and say "LAUNDRY!", right?

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  2. There ARE weddings where people don't dance and I want to fire them all. I dance at weddings.

    And I have never had the ability to trade clothes. My sisters and I are all shaped very differently, as are my friends and I. So I'm really jealous.

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  3. I'm still finding clothes in my closet that belong to Sara from when we co-habitated. So it's probably a good thing that I didn't steal all your awesome shifts.

    I still can't believe that was your first "people don't dance" wedding. I've been subjected to hundreds. HUNDREDS!

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