Last week I mentioned having to shop for a dress for K's wedding. It was, at first, quite frustrating. I tried on about twenty dresses at Macy's, where I had incredibly great luck the last time I went dress shopping. Everything during that visit looked great; it was just a matter of finding the best of many options. This time, however, was an entirely different deal. I am not quite showing yet, but I don't have my normal figure, either. So dresses fell into one of two categories: they made me look a little fat, or they covered my almost-bump adequately but were too revealing for my newly-acquired plus-sized-bust AND were simultaneously too short to be appropriate for a woman my age. (Stacy and Clinton clearly say: No Mini Skirts after 35!)
I finally gave into the siren call of the maternity store. Feeling incredibly silly for walking in looking like I was a woman who had not ever stopped taking her birth control, I was quickly comforted by the sales associate. She assured me that coming in "this early" was quite normal. She quickly found something quite similar to this dress on the sale rack, and it was perfect.
Emboldened by the initial plunge, I also bought a dress for the rehearsal dinner. Then I went a little crazy and bought something to wear to the office. The grey jumper resembled something I had tried on at a "normal" store that just didn't quite fit. So I was pretty excited.
The decision to debut the pregnant-lady clothes during my trip to Chicago last week was nerve-wracking. I wore my normal pants with the buttons secretly fastened with rubber bands the rest of the week. (Thanks, Deborah, for teaching me that trick!!)
Thursday morning, I was ready. I put the jumper on over a white blouse and was instantly dismayed. It wasn't NEARLY as cute as I remembered in the store. I looked less pregnant, too. I was annoyed but simply tied the ever-present-pregnant-lady-bow in the back and headed off to work, proudly sporting my mini-bump for the first time.
I noticed on the way to the office that not only was the dress not as cute as I'd remembered, it was downright unflattering in the back. The butt was poofing out uncontrollably. I spent most of the day walking with my hands clasped behind my back, my notepad tucked under my arm, trying to conceal the poof, feeling resentful that I’d spent money on such a poorly-made garment.
At four o'clock, a coworker stopped by. She's a mom and we've been exchanging pregnancy stories.
"Tori... don't hate me, but I have to ask....
... are you wearing your dress … backwards?"
--- Update, 9/17 ---
Yes. I was. Wearing it backwards.
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9 comments:
Shut. Up.
I made my coworker swear not to tell a soul. But then I realized it was too funny not to tell on myself.
So, were you? (Wearing it backwards.)
Mom
Thank you. I needed that.
As they say on the internets these days: LOL.
I think I almost choked!
:)
i bought a pair of shoes once, and one was brown and one was black.
wore 'em twice before i figured it out.
i think you still win, but i know i'm in the game.
Oh my god I'm laughing out loud.
The CMO of my old company showed up at work in two completely different black shoes. She didn't notice until her back started to hurt -- the heels were different heights.
Awesome.
Too funny - that made me LOL out loud, as Adrian Monk would say.
Now, I think you should post a photo...
OMG. So funny! And cute dress. How do you like it when worn the right way?
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