I went to try on dresses again today, this time I swung by David’s Bridal.Who knew that this is where they were hiding the pit of hell? I had no clue.
I arrived 15 minutes early for my 2 o’clock appointment. I walked to 24th and 6th street from 64th and Lexington. Nice walk. Google maps says its 2.5 miles. It was a beautiful day and I am trying to slim down for the wedding. I am a comfortable size 6 at this point and can fit into my old size 4 clothes from a few years back, my recent surgery was a huge success. I will preface by saying I am not feeling bad about my body at all.
I arrive and am greeted by the girl at the desk who tells me to search for dresses I like in a catalog she hands me. I sit and calmly peruse the magazine and wait, and wait, and wait. There are very few people in the store and there are about 6 ladies chatting behind the register. By now it is 2:27 I have been waiting for over half an hour and one of the girls wanders over to me and says “Jennifer” with a tone of derision as if she had witnessed me in the act of smearing myself with feces or something as heinous. “Hi” I answered cheerfully.
“Did you find something,” she asked gesturing to the magazine, which I had clearly dog-eared.
“I did” I smiled in an effort not to lose my cool
I showed her the dresses I liked and told her I didn’t really like dresses with too much going on. I explained that I was looking for something more plain and timeless, she cut me off mid sentence and asked what size I was. I said, I had no idea. I hadn’t shopped in a long time and I wasn’t told what size I was at the last store and…
What size do you wear in regular clothes?
I am about a six, now.
Ok what is your bra size?
I told her.
She led me back to the dressing rooms and said, sit here, then disappeared.
As rattled as I was, I sat back and checked my email, I had been volleying ideas back and forth with a recruiter, who had told me my strength, assertion and intensity were intimidating to employers and I’d have to tone it down to get a job I was overqualified for in this flagging economy. I accidentally walked out of my last job a couple of weeks ago, unable to handle my bosses oozing falseness and passive aggressive handcuffing. C’est La Vie. A job will come, I am not worried. I sold another story this week and I just have to keep on keepin on’. I am having faith this week… it’s quelling my nerves well.
She came back with a filthy bustier and an armful of options.
I tried on the dresses and we discovered I am an 8. As she worked with a zipper on one particularly dirty dress, all of them had hems rimmed in varying shades of gray, she said. “this would be so much easier if you were a 2”.
Um whoa, hello. First of all, She was not a 2…
The girls trying on dresses around me were not 2’s. Far from it actually, how in the hell is that good customer service?
Enough, enough now.
I will not go any further other than to say, in the records of wedding planning and preparation this will be transcribed as one of the “not good” days.
That’s all for now.
Hope you are all happy and well, thank you for reading!
xo – Jenz