Clothes Shopping and My Board of Fashion

The Builder and I were at home for a wedding recently, and I'll show you photos of the bride and the wedding itself later. But as y'all know, a wedding means a dress. A dress means shopping. And clothes shopping - for me - means a problem.

Indeed, not a problem, but many problems.

On the Saturday before the wedding, I spent the morning in a car garage with the Builder, trying out cars with a view to changing our own, and the afternoon dress shopping. I don't need to tell y'all that I loved every minute of the morning's 'shopping', but oh boy, the dress shopping. Oh. Boy.

I tried on about five hundred and seventy-three dresses, and I took photos of every one and sent each photo to my Board of Fashion so they could decide on the suitability of each one. 

My Board of Fashion consists of a friend, my sister, and my two daughters. They spent the afternoon online giving their opinions.

Our conversations varied, but normally, they went something like this:

Board member: Erm, no. That dress doesn't work. I mean ... do you like it?

Me: No, not really ... I'll try the next one on.

Board member: You look like you're applying for a job in M&S. Um ... and not as a model.

Or

Board Member: For crying out loud, woman, stand up straight. 

I felt like Jane, being told off by Mrs Bennett. You remember the scene?

"Oh, sit up straight, Jane! Pull your shoulders back! A man could go a long way without seeing a figure like yours, if you could only make the most of it!"

Not that I think that whole comment applies to Moi. Not that I was trying to attract Mr Bingley. And not, I hasten to add, that I liken my sister to Mrs Bennet.

Well, not much anyway.

I thought this might work. It was a fit-and-flare (I almost know what I'm talking about here, don't I?) and whilst on the hanger, it looked like it might fit me.

Why do clothes on hangers still fool me? Even in the Petite section, clothes are not made for people like me. Ohhhh no. They are for ... and I quote: 5ft 3in and under. 

But herein lies the problem. The 'and under' part includes me. Three inches may not seem a lot to all you normal people out there, but three inches out of five foot is a huge 5%. I think that's right, and that's huge. Three inches off means the dress waistline may sit around my hips. That's not a good look. 

Believe me, I know.

Three inches means that the hemline goes from an 'elegant knee length' to dangling somewhere mid-calf.

Again ... not a good look. 

This particular dress gave rise to this conversation:

Board member: Are you for real? You're going to a wedding, not a funeral!

Me: A funeral?? This has pink flowers on it. 

*I proceed to quickly send a close-up of the dress, clearly showing pink flowers. Not funeral-ly at all*

Board member: Anne, I'd wear that on a Saturday for round the house.

Me: *gulp*

Board member: Can it actually be true that you're my sister?

On the final day's shopping - the day before we travelled home - I finally tried on my last dress, and changed back into ME clothes.

This was the dress my Board chose. It was navy, had a funny band at the bottom of the skirt which was odd and made it longer than it ought to have been, but my trusted Board insisted it was not to be taken to a dressmaker for the chop. I was to wear it as it was.

Who am I to argue?