I had been waiting for this moment. This moment when The Mom goes into full Mother of the Bride mode and has a bit of a panic about what she’s going to wear. I feel that each time I go home her wardrobe is filled to bursting with an array of frocks that would be just fine for L’il Sis’s wedding. But I am obviously both blind and foolish as apparently none of them will do.
I have also long since worked out that it is foolish in the extreme to try and reason with The Mom when she says she has nothing to wear. I think she enjoys getting a new frock for each occasion, and who am I to deny her that? She likes new things – I see them as things not yet to be trusted.
Oh sure, you might buy a new dress and it’s okay in the shop but then when you put it on you realise they’ve sewn the tag in with something like fishing line and it will not stop itching and all you want to do is rip the thing from your body and burn it. Or maybe you forgot to bring the bra you were wearing in the shop when you tried it on and now that you’ve got the facncier one on, (the one The Mom recognises as a bra and not just the top half of a bikini you don’t own) the top is a bit tight in the armpits in a way that will make you tug and pull at the stupid dress all ding dong day. Or maybe you thought the length was okay but judging by the looks you’re getting it is far too long and you look not that dissimilar to someone from “Little House on the Prairie”.
The above happens to me with shocking regulartiy. I don’t understand why The Mom thinks me buying a new dress is going to end up anywhere good. And anyhow, I’m already ahead of her. Sensing that my array of summer frocks would not withstand scrutiny at the wedding, I bought a new dress online. It’s bright canary yellow. It’s soft cotton. and it fits nicely. Great, so far. Except when I tried it on in a properly lit room, it became clear that a slip or lining was needed: you could see my nude coloured bra right through it, and I assume one could make out my polar bear underpants if one were to look closely. It’s the sort of thing that will drive my family slowly nuts. Well, The Mom and L’il Sis – Crazy D won’t care one bit.
So The Mom and I have been arguing back and forth about how to solve this problem, because I’ve spent almost £40 on the dress –which is a lot for me. The thing is, there’s a cutout in back which I keep telling The Mom about but she refuses to believe a slip isn’t the answer to my problems. I’ve since stopped discussing the matter with her and have sought advice from female colleagues at the office, who have all told me what I had suspected: I need to go to Marks & Spencer to sort this out. M&S is sort of the Holy Grail of solutions to clothing problems here. People are constantly telling me they got the nice thing they’re wearing there but each time I go either the sizes are too big or the clothes are too ugly. But apparently they do a good line in slips. I’ll go and have a look but I’m not holding out much hope.
So I shall go back into my wardrobe and re-evaluate the frock situation. I may also call in at this one local shop I like, that’s based in Cornwall. It’s all soft cotton, there are no itchy seams, there’s a lot of blue going on, and some fun prints: I think a seagull sundress would go down a storm. But this dress needs to also go to a wedding in Cape Town this Christmas, so it can’t be a one-off wonder.
I may have to brave the shops again, which is something I dislike intensely. But it looks like it won’t be raining this weekend, so I suppose I could try an hour’s worth of shopping before treating myself to a well- deserved beer. I may be wearing a very old blue frock, but at least I won’t be on edge.