Killer Dress

Did you know that a dress can kill you? I didn't think so, but I found out last week that it just might be able to.

I was shopping in Target when I passed by a dress that caught my eye. I stopped in my tracks, took a couple of steps backward, and examined it. This dress had a lot of structure (ie., might make me look better than I really do). I took the dress off the rack and headed for the dressing room. I was alone. That part is important. I quickly got undressed and began pulling the dress over my head. You see, the dress had no zipper in the back, just a little one on the side. It was constructed of luxurious stiff brown fabric with crisp pink lining. No "give" whatsoever. As I was pulling it over my head, my subconscious casually reminded me, “You’re claustrophobic, and you might get stuck in this dress and suffocate.” I thought, “Yeah, but..... it might look really good on me! It’ll be OK, once I get past my shoulders.” So I continued. My next thought was a memory…. of Emily telling me that one time after church she was home alone, and was taking her dress off over her head because her zipper was stuck, and that she got stuck in it, and literally almost suffocated. I consoled myself by saying to myself, “What are the chances of that happening to two people in the same family?” So, I continued.

With not too much effort, I was able to shimmy the dress all the way down. Whew! There. Good. It was a little tight, but not too bad. This was looking like a possible keeper! I slipped my hands in the side-seam pockets, and was a little confused that my hands went to the back of my body, instead of resting on my hip bones like you’d expect. Oh. Weird. I guess some people just don’t know how to sew! Hmmph! I considered myself in the mirror, and noticed that it wasn't all that comfortable feeling. I suddenly realized that the covered buttons down the front were really supposed to decorate the back of the dress! Oh. So I had the dress on backwards. Great. Then….. horror of all horrors, I suddenly realized that somehow, SOMEHOW, I had forgotten to take off my blouse before trying on the dress, It was all bunched up under the too tight, backwards dress with no zipper. That is when panic set in. I was scared to take off the dress. What if it got stuck when it was halfway off? What if I suffocated and died in the dressing room of Target?

I calmly considered my options. ONE: I could ask the dressing room lady for help, but that would mean that I would have to expose myself....underwear, fat, etc. Not good. TWO: I could gather my things, walk out with the backwards dress on and scurry to the checkout counter and say, “I’d like to purchase this dress I'm wearing backwards and can't get off. Here, I’ll just lean over and bend down a bit so you can scan it.”….. then smile and casually leave the store with a scream of horror stifled in my throat. Possibly. THREE: Preserve my dignity and try to get the darn dress off. I chose number 3. I mustered my courage, took a deep breath, and reassured myself by saying that logic dictates that if I got the dress on, it had to come off. What goes up, must come down, or something like that.

I crossed my arms in front of me, grabbed both edges of the hem, and lifted the dress over my head. Except that it never made it over my head, but got stuck on my shoulders. My arms were straight up in the air, folds of dark brown fabric pressed against my nose and mouth, and darkness engulfing me. I was running out of air. I considered my options. ONE: Yell, “Help!”, and then instruct the dressing room lady to crawl under the dressing room door because I could no longer reach the latch. Adding that humiliation to the underwear and fat sighting would be just too much to bear. TWO: Lay down so I could reach my purse, fumble for mycell phone, and call Emily at school and say, “Emily, get down to the Target dressing room right now and help me or I might suffocate and die!!!” She’d probably ask a million questions, and by that time I’d already be dead. Not an option. THREE: Feel around for the miniature scissors on my key chain and start snipping as fast as I could. Dumb idea. That’s ruining a perfectly good $39.99 dress! FOUR: (My number of options is increasing? I'm confused….) Muster all of my bionic woman strength, say a prayer, and get the dress OFF. I chose Number 4. That’s what I did.

After what seemed (and probably looked) like a brawl with the dress, it fell to the floor. Actually, I thrust it to the floor of the dressing room. Then I looked in the mirror….hair tousled, face red, panting….I looked myself right in the eye, pointed a finger and said, “You! You are SO STUPID! You could have been killed! All for a stupid dress!!!!!” Then I mumbled, “I hate this dress…..”, and I nearly growled at it.

I hurriedly got dressed, exited the dressing room, and headed back to the rack, still catching my breath. As I hung the dress on the rack, I noted that there was another one, one size bigger. Hmmmmm......I thought, “Well….it iiiissss a cute dress!” I grabbed it and headed for the check-out counter. Unbelieveable. I bought it. But! I didn’t try it on until I got home and had supervision. :)

I ultimately decided that it was a cute dress, but not cute on me, and that I really did need to lose 30 pounds. A few days later, I found a dress in almost the same style, with comfortable, forgiving fabric, and a zipper in the back. I love it! And best of all, it isn't life threatening!

So beware, ladies! Learn from my experience. A dress really could kill you!