The Clothes, The Mannequin, and Me

Hello!

I've been trying to decide whether to blog here, set up a new blog on Wordpress, or not blog at all.

Truth is, I enjoy writing. There are times when the only way for me to process something is to write about it. I've long since given up on being a very regular blogger though!

I had the joy of spending some quality time with my 13 year old daughter yesterday. I took her shopping--clothes shopping. The past two times she and I have gone shopping together have ranked right up there with having a root canal. I loved spending time with her, even though there were some rocky moments.

However.

My apologies (not really) to clothing designers, manufacturers, and retail stores--much of what I saw yesterday while shopping for an Easter dress should have had P*RN PRINCESS scrawled somewhere along the mostly non-existent top. At best, the clothes would have made my 13 year old look like a 20 year old dressed for business (and I use the term loosely) during the day and hard core party girl at night.

Somewhere, I was sure I heard my Grandmother who had an affinity for the classic, tailored, feminine look huff and wonder "what in this world they are thinking?" followed by a good, Southern "bless their heart".

Shopping for clothes has never been my favorite thing to do--I'd much rather shop for books, house stuff, or technological gadgets. But, my girl is a bit of a clothes horse. I try to meet in the middle most of the time. Decency and coverage are non-negotiables. But, yesterday there wasn't much middle (or top or skirt) to meet in.

Finally the skies opened and angels sang. For there was a skirt/shirt combination that she really liked and that I felt was actually worthy of being called clothing. She ran to the rack to look for her size. I prayed.

Her size was not on the rack. I pleadedprayed some more.

The mannequin was wearing the outfit--maybe, just maybe.... Sure enough the mannequin was wearing the size my girl needed to try on.

I started to strip the mannequin myself but figured I would at least try to find a sales lady to help.

She took the arm off (I felt some degree of kinship). Turns out it was magnetic--I'm thinking my leg guy needs to work on this idea! I offered to hold the arm and told the lady that I was an amputee and, therefore, used to holding body parts.

So after stripping the mannequin, we headed back to try on the outfit. It fit! She liked it. I liked it. I felt like I had found the Holy Grail.

My other non-negotiable is that whatever we get should be on sale.

This wasn't on sale. I gladly paid for it.

I threw a scarf around the naked mannequin on the way out and thanked her for her help.









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