I want to buy this Dress. A story of bizarre fashionista

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A real story from my recent life. My madness and my dream that came true. Dedicated to all fashion shops, boutiques, fashion designers and fashionistas who are keeping stupid diets.

Submitted: October 21, 2011

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Submitted: October 21, 2011

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“I want to buy this dress”, - this thought kept repeating in my head. “Damn it! I want to buy this dress”. I knew my sister didn’t have any intentions of getting married, and I had no other affairs besides my birthdays, not to mention nobody other than my husband to celebrate them with. But I realized I wanted this dress.

I am not a shopaholic nor am I a modest servant of fashion. I am a modest manager in a boring statistics firm. But does it prevent me from being the very romantic inspired person I am? No! In fact, simply opening a laptop and placing an order is all it takes… But the dress had two very big problems: its size and its price. These two problems were beyond my reach at least it seemed that way at first. Then I thought that doggone dress made such a charming impression on my modest personality. And I realized “Hey… I want to buy this dress”.  Weight? I am two sizes bigger? It costs my salary? No problem! I decided and this dress will be mine and not for love nor money will I abandon this idea.

I am actually a very modest person who doesn’t buy anything that costs more than a hundred buck. Nor do I buy designer prom dresses. In thinking about this, a question started to linger…perhaps it’s quite the opposite? Can I do it? Can I? Can I resist my nature and buy this bestial prom dress and wear it… to walk in my garden? Where else can I wear it? Hmm…

And then I decided…I will go on a diet and save my money for this dress. My husband won’t understand me right away but that’s not a problem. I can’t stop thinking about this dress and the only way to get out it of my head is to make it appear in my wardrobe.

First day.  “I cannot… I cannot… I cannot help eating this prosciutto sandwich for breakfast.  But this is the last time. I promise”. Ok, I will start my diet tomorrow.

Second day. “I should’t… I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t eat this prosciutto sandwich, I will eat yoghurt instead. Only my husband will eat prosciutto from now on. It will save… it will save probably ten or fifteen dollars a week.” I do not care. I ate yoghurt and a sandwich without prosciutto. And I walked back home it saved me money but still I couldn’t sleep well: the dream of prosciutto didn’t let me sleep well. Which is stronger…dreaming of prosciutto or dreaming about that dress?

Weekend. I saved almost one hundred dollars. Hungry and nervous, I keep on struggling with my nature because that devilish dress is still on my mind. Oh …no. This weekend we are supposed to visit my parents-in –law, or, to be exact, to face the nightmare of muffins. Hope, my mum-in-law didn’t notice when I fed the dog all three of muffins. I refused to help myself for the usual fourth muffin.

Day ten. Sometimes I think I hate prosciutto and its raspberry color. I can hardly eat, staring at my husbands’ sandwich. But I am strong enough to resist this challenge. The dress will be mine. My scale shows me 3 pounds lighter. Great! Prociutto…err… that is that dress will be mine.

Day twelve. My feet are killing me. It is hard to get home hiking even if I wear mid-heel shoes.I wil buy sneakers and try them on. Stop! I mustn’t spend my money on anything until I get that dress. I am not Rockefeller and I cannot afford another pair of sneakers. Gosh!

Second Weekend. We are not supposed to go for a weekend to my parents-in-law. Mom-in-law called and informed the dog got some digestion problems. Veterinarian guessed the husband’s parents fed the dog pastries. He-he. I do not know anything about that.

Day twenty… something. All days look gloomy and deadly boring. The only thing pleasing my soul is the dream of that dress. Gosh, how I want to buy it!

Third Weekend. My parents … I mean pancakes. It is even worse than the traditional muffins of my mom-in-law. Daddy’s pancakes. Gosh help me. Mother was sighing all weekend, expecting me to be pregnant and grandkids, all the while I’m losing weight. But I resisted. I survived everything and really got over it.

Day thirty… something. I logon to the online store and… “Oh, thank God my dress is still on sale! It’s not sold out! Great! I will have two more strawberries today as a reward for being strong and keeping the dream alive.” Husband doesn’t get me. He thinks I am obsessed with the idea of that dress, thinking I am edgy because I do not eat properly anymore and I will have a nervous breakdown soon.

Another weekend. Great! We are at home and we are going to the swimming pool. I have another chance to lose a couple of pounds. Husband doesn’t stare at other gals because he is afraid of my nervous breakdown.

Day forty six. I finally collected enough money for the dress and the scale shows that I am now the perfect size to fit into my dress. Husband called me a silly thing and decided to feed me against my will starting from tomorrow’s breakfast. I do not object as long as it’s not prociutto. How could I eat such terrible meat? I have to persuade husband to eat chicken instead of this highly acidic meat. Thank God, I will have a great day tomorrow! The dress will be mine and I cannot contain my excitement.

Day forty seven. I hate ecommerce shops! The dress is now available in my former size! Damn them! Now I do not know which size to buy. Hope, I won’t get plump because I made up my mind to buy the dress of my new size.

My day at last started right I opened that ecommerce one stop shop and placed an order because I wanted to buy that dress more than anything else...


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