Simply Divine, Darling

It is 100 degrees Saturday. In other words, it is the perfect day to crowd into poorly ventilated fitting rooms and try on layers of satin and taffeta and whatnot. So I do.

The material clings to me in all sorts of unflattering ways but I insist on showing each one, even the ones I can't zip up, to my husband who is a master of minimalist facial expressions that get the point across ("Dear god, no!") , no matter how many times the saleslady coos "Oh, that looks fabulous on you!" Over the years, hubby has learned not to say, "The material isn't supposed to bunch like that around your ass, is it? Because if that's intentional, it's not a good look."

We wind up going to three different bridal shops in search of the perfect evening dress for a formal affair in September. Yes, I need to start two months in advance because the dress will, at a minimum, have to be hemmed, and then there's the shoes and the bag and the make-up and the foundational garments and the jewelry and who needs grocery and gas money, right?

I don't know why my relatives are so into black tie affairs but it seems they know no other way. And because it is the same crowd that I've seen for several black tie affairs last year, I can't possibly wear any of those perfectly serviceable, ridiculously expensive, impossibly constructed gowns. Heavens, no.

I wind up with this dress:Unfortunately, it does not come with the 18-year-old model with the 18" waist to wear it. There's just me. But I sincerely hope to find a room strewn with flowers and plaster lawn accoutrement in which to pose for pictures.

I take my charge card out to pay for the gown. I am surprised, with all the expenses we've had this year, that the card doesn't simply burst into flames when the saleslady scans it.

Saleslady: This is a final sale. It's non-returnable.

Hubby: Why is it a final sale? Is it reduced or something?

Saleslady: No. All our "special occasion" dresses are final sale.

Hubby, looking around at the room full of bridal gowns and evening dresses: This is a bridal shop. Aren't all of your dresses "special occasion"?

Saleslady, sheepishly: Yes.

I guess they're tired of people tucking the tags, wearing the gowns and then trying to bring them back. I say there ought to be special occasion dress swap meets. Wouldn't that be fun?

I know people sell gowns on E-bay but I'd hate to buy something just to get it delivered, try it on, and hear my husband ask "Were you going for Linda Tripp-y on the bottom and Li'l Kim-y on the top?"