The Little Black Dress

Recently, Ron and I celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary.  We had taken a short mini trip to Lake Geneva, Ill the weekend before as a pre-celebration and planned to go out to dinner the evening of our anniversary.

Every anniversary is special but when you hit those milestones and realize how much you still love each other, through all the challenges 15 years can bring–it’s particularly special.

My biggest challenge that day– what to wear? I went out that morning and made every attempt to buy something new. A woman really needs a new dress on special occasions such as this. I didn’t feel stressed, I knew in the back of my mind and in the back of my closet I had this really cute little black dress that I hadn’t worn in a while (insert red flag or a slap to the forehead). If my shopping excursion failed, I had a back-up.

The heat was turned up high that day as I went from store to store trying on dresses that were definitely sized incorrectly or who in their right mind would wear this. Even my failsafe Ann Taylor which typically comes to my rescue didn’t have anything that would garner that, “wow look” from my husband of 15 years.  By this time the heat was really getting to me and time was running out. The little black dress it is.

I laid the little black number across the bed and all the accessories and proceeded to get dressed. Hair; check, make-up; check, dress; 'you’ve got be kidding.' Did I mention it was little?

As I stepped into the dress, I was delighted to know it went smoothly past my ankles, smoothly past my hips, and finally up on the shoulders. Perfect. Then horror filled the room as I tried to zip this baby up.

Beads of sweat literally danced on my forehead. I thought about throwing myself face down on the bed and then trying to zip it, but there goes the make-up and I would surely suffocate. My next thought, Ron could just dig in his tool bag for some pliers. So what if I couldn’t sit or eat. That was but a fleeting thought–Ron holding his foot to my back and using his pliers to secure me in to this dress, negated the whole anniversary thing.

Then the moment of truth came, this little black dress somehow shrunk and had to go to its rightful place in the back of the closet, because we all know I’ll be able to wear it again someday. Unfortunately, I did not have a back-up for the back-up, and for the next ten minutes I proceeded to pull everything out of my closet.

Ron was taking a shower during all of this drama and was unaware of my clothing dilemma. I was a tad bit sweaty and out of breath when we got into the car but he was none the wiser and complimented me, but the “wow factor,” not there. Side note to men–a woman always knows when she looks great and when she just looks ok, ALWAYS.

We had a lovely dinner but I decided the next morning to start trimming down. My goal is not to get into that little black dress; you just have to let that go. No, the goal is to be healthy and happy. It’s not the dress that makes the woman, but the woman that makes the dress– no matter the size. And one less trip to the sweet table might be in order.

But in case you ever need a pick me up, go to Chicos. It was the last store I visited that hot day. As I entered, the saleslady cheerfully asked me what size I wore. I gave her my range and she indicated that I was a size ONE. I’m still chuckling as I cheerfully took her by surprise and gave her a big old bear hug and blessed her and her whole family. However, one caveat, have coupon in hand unless you want your wallet trimmed too.

I will praise You for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works and that my soul knows very well. Psalm 139:14