Since it was after Memorial Day, I ventured out to work in my new white linen capris that I bought myself from the Ann Taylor Outlet the other day. I mention this for two reasons: one, I'm gaining more confidence in expanding my wardrobe possibilities and two, I'm actually fitting into Ann Taylor stuff. That's huge. Heck, it's monumental in my book.
You see, I just always assumed that I could never fit into clothing at that kind of store, so I never tried things on there. Well, this week I got to experience some pay-offs from my Zack-attacks at the gym and now I must work to pay off the results of my pay-offs, if you know what I mean.
So I strut in to the shop, in my crisp white capris(which blended in nicely with my pastey white legs), a navy blue batik tank and yellow cardigan. I had on one of my big bright flower pins for which Nancy, our seamstress, calls me "boss" because of her days at Gimble's in Philly where all the floor managers wore flowers on their lapels.
Today, I was sporting a bright yellow flower pin which complimented my cardigan very well. Now, there is a clip beneath the pin part of the pin so I could wear it in my hair if I wanted to. I opted out of this style because I felt like I should walk around with a ukulele, singing "Tiny Bubbles" and welcoming everyone with "Aloha...ahuke mauke tauke mona luau." All that was needed was a skewered roasted pig, some pineapple and a couple of lit tiki torches, to complete my Pacific oasis.
As if on a cat-walk, I modeled my colorful little outfit down the runway(aka the hall), stopping to strike a pose at customers and letting them know that I fit into Ann Taylor now. "You see my capris?...Ann Taylor...yeah, I fit into them."
Usually with confidence (about something in my life) humility follows right behind to remind me of what an idiot I really am. Today, it came in the form of tummy control panties whose waistband decided to fold over on itself. This caused a rather large dollop of belly flab to spill out, pushing my capris down low onto my hips and making me look all 'gansta'-like, which was not the look I was going for at all today.
In junior high, I had this English teacher who always wore polyester pants with a baggy butt. There was nothing to fill out his backside and rumor had it that he got his butt shot off in 'Nam. Now, thirty years later, I'm sporting the same look. Sigh.
I doctored the problem with a safety pin and hoisted the waistband of the key element of my ensemble back up to my waist. I regained most of my composure and headed to the front of the store to escort a young bride-to-be back to a fitting room. She was here for her second and last fitting before her wedding next week. Months ago, she had bought her gown from our discount rack. When she came in for her first fitting a month ago, we could not zip up her dress; there was about four inches of skin separating both sides of the zipper. And there was not enough extra material to fix the problem. She was going to try to lose weight before her final fitting.
She came back today, with a corset from her Renaissance Fair wench outfit (don't ask). She said that it was suppose to cut seven inches off of her waist. Poor girl, it didn't help her at all. She was to be married in one week and didn't fit into her dress. The owners called a seamstress who designs dresses and she was willing to see the girl right away.
I don't know what the outcome was, but I hope it worked out. It seemed that wardrobe malfunctions were the theme for the day as I found out while working with a grandmother who needed to find a dress for her grandchild's wedding. She found a beautiful bluish-grey long gown that she liked very much. The funny thing was that even though it fit her very well, she pointed out (literally) that her boobs were down on her stomach and the bra pads (that were sewn into the dress) were way up at her collar bone. She kept pushing in the pads and laughing. She soon had me laughing too, as I hiked up my capris again.
The day ended with me rescuing a vanity panel from a bride's crack. The panel had slipped sideways down over the girl's butt crack and I had to delicately maneuver my finger under the panel and work it back up into it's rightful position underneath the corset lacing. It was like a freaking game of "Operation"; I had to perform the task without poking my finger into her crack, which was barely covered by a neon green thong.
As sweat beaded down my nose, I was able to fix the issue without any skin contact. After wiping away the perspiration from my face and hiking up my capris again, it was time to close the shop. Well, it was close to 4pm (closing time) but a bride who had an appointment at 3pm decided to mosey on in at 3:30. Oh well, who cares if we're inconvenienced. Four o'clock came and went and we were still at the shop. Mindy let me go after the chores were done, while she stayed to work with the bride (who ended up not buying anything anyway).
I pulled up my capris, pulled down my tank and adjusted my sweater one last time before leaving. I was headed home for a wardrobe change, knowing that my tummy control undies were headed for the trash. And the next day, I was headed to the mall for some SPANX.
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