I had on the most fabulous dress the other day. It was blue polka dot. Not like Duchess Kate’s Middleton’s adorable post pregnancy blue polka dot dress. Mine was navy blue with tiny dots and a big swing style skirt. I really should have taken a photo; I was cute as a button.
I found the dress in an antique store. I have a thing for mid-century style – clothes, décor, television, you name it. So in addition to the flowing skirt, it had a tight bodice, almost tube top looking, only not tacky. It was topped off by two spaghetti straps. Got the picture? I looked so ladylike.
I couldn’t get it off! It’s all one piece, no zippers, no elastic, just tight fighting from the waist up. Are you kidding me? Help! Help! Help! I wiggled. I shimmied. I got the big flowing skirt up over my head but couldn’t get enough traction to pull the form fitting top portion to slide up and off.
I started flailing. I bent over. I started making grunting noises and may have even started to sweat. What in the world am I going to do? This flippin’ dress is stuck! The more I held my breath, thinking it might make my belly skinnier, the more it puffed my rib cage up and made it get even more stuck.
Even more stuck!
Oh c’mon, for the love of .. HELP! Who I was talking to is a mystery as I was home alone. Even if my teens were there I’m not sure I would have called for their help, as I wouldn’t want to scar them for life. At least we could have laughed about it.
By this time my basset hound jumped up on my bed so she could be closer to eye level with me. I guess she thought I wanted to play. She started frolicking and wanted to grab the hem of the dress. Nope, pretty sure she wasn’t trying to help pull it off and help. I must have looked like a jumping bean, waving and spinning around. Fun times for a young dog I’m sure.
Leave me alone long dog!
Look, I’m a Business Admin and a Homeland Security major – not an engineer. Think. Think. What am I going to do here? I have to get it off. Finally I had the brainiac idea that if I stood erect, crossed my arms in front of me then lifted straight up (more like tugged) then I may be able to break free.
And voila’ … we have success. I was able to get unstuck from that beautiful feminine dress, albeit I looked like two pigs fighting under a blanket in the process.
Men just don’t understand what we go through to be beautiful, sexy, stunning.
What about you? Have you ever been stuck in your clothes? I bet you have. Go on – admit it. The truth shall set you free! And a good crow bar can pry you free!