Saturday, February 25, 2012

The Great Prom Dress Debacle, or how to dress like a chicken



Yup. It's that time again.

The girls are on the hunt for the big game. 

The perfect prom dress.

An elusive creature, hiding in corners and shoved behind other dresses.

Stuffed into airtight, watertight, lightproof, can't-get-them-out-of-these plastic bags.
We spotted a few today but they were very e-x-c-l-u-s-i-v-e and only hung out with other e-x-c-l-u-s-i-v-e- dresses. 

We needed much more firepower to own these dresses, like an extra $500 worth of firepower. That's what we get for traveling to a store much closer to a way-big city than I normally go to. 

I told K and her friend S that maybe we need to look in a less e-x-c-l-u-s-i-v-e area, like Idaho. 

Or Montana.


And this would be the point when I thought my daughter looked like a chicken.

Or Lady Gaga.

I cannot tell you how happy I am that she was NOT serious about this dress. It made her giggle when she saw it on the rack and wanted to try it on for kicks.

Whew.

I was uncertain how to tell her the chicken look really wasn't working for her.
I had a horrible time taking pictures in this shop. The dressing rooms were too small and I couldn't get a good angle for a whole shot.

Forget trying to get her to go outside the dressing room. It was like running a gauntlet.

Lots of other young ladies were lined up outside the dressing rooms, waiting their turn at trying on their six dresses.

Six dresses. 

Then you had to get back in line and wait for another bazillion minutes to try on six more. All the while you're in line, you get to watch all the other young ladies come out to stand on the central pedestal where EVERYONE can see them. And comment on their choices. And how good the dress looks. 

Or not.

Can you say "intimidating"? So K and I stayed in the dressing room. I faced the corner to give her some privacy. She would let me know when I could turn around to zip her up. 

Or not. 

Some of the dresses had to be sized wrong by crazy-dress-makers-who-don't-know-how-to-size-dresses. She was trying on dresses two sizes larger than anything she has ever bought and I couldn't get the hook closed. Huh?

We left empty-handed. 

The chicken dress returned to the rack for the next girl who needs a giggle.

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My 400th post. And it's about chickens.



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