Ode to the Dress of my Dreams: The Tale of How it was Lost

It was the eve of the last day of May. I had just wrapped up a fantastic few hours with friends and had gotten in the car with my mother Tileka. Much to my surprise she took a detour on our way home. She pulled into Ross. I remember my brow furrowing as I glanced up at the luminous blue lights from my seat in our car. "Why are we here?" I remember asking with disdain. This particular location was always crowded  with irate women who, 9 times out of 10, favored Spanish over English. My mother justified our unfortunate stop by saying she was looking for a chest to put in her bedroom. Submissively I stepped out of the car onto the bumpy asphalt parking lot. I smoothed the doubts out of my mind by reminding myself that it was late and the store couldn't be so very crowded. My logic proved to be right, the store had a decent, but not overwhelming, amount of shoppers in it and for once i felt comfortable wandering away from my mother to see what they were offering in the dress section. Strolling through the racks of tight, immodest, stripper dresses I began to lose hope that there was anything there worth my attention when suddenly, I saw it: the dress that hasn't left my mind all day long. It was a beautiful dress, the body of it was a creamy off-white color, the sleeves were of a light chiffon material with slits all the way down the sides that created a goddess-like effect. Immediately my mind went to the designer Free People and I noticed the way the dress mimicked their trademark style. Timidly I glanced at the size: 3!!! It was in my size! I'm not exactly sure how to describe my reaction when I saw that this dress was the perfect size for me, but I will tell  you that on the rack it practically screamed: "Buy me!"

Before I quite knew what was happening I snatched the dress off the rack and went to try it on in the dressing room. My gaze never left the  full length mirror as I slipped the dress on over my head and inched it down and over my body. When I finished the task of dressing I just stared. The fit was clingy, but not too tight. The length was short, but not at all immodest. The neckline was high, but in a classy, put together sort of way. And the sleeves... Well the sleeves were so beautiful with the way they buttoned delicately at the cuff and draped over my arms allowing them to peek out depending on how I moved. The dress was stunning! I could see myself going to my junior prom in this dress and pairing it with sky-high cream colored stilettos and delicate earrings. I LOVED this dress.

Alas, the time had come for my mother and I to leave and continue on our journey home. Evidently she had not found what she had come looking for and despite my pleading for her to purchase the dress of my dreams for me (for a mere $16.99!!) she opted out with the excuse that: "I own too many clothes as it is and I need to save money."

And now as I sit here, nestled in my bed in melancholy, I can't help thinking about that dress and how stunning it was.... I loved that dress with a deep passion in my heart. And as my mother and I pulled away from that wretched Ross store I couldn't help looking back out of the rear-view mirror and thinking about what could have been. In a way I feel as if I have lost a lover. Lord help me heal. /: