But there’s something more to that last sentence. It wasn’t all as easy as that.
You see what really happened is this: (and I’m gonna be honest here) I saw it on the rack at Dangerfield in Myer and immediately fell in love with it. Mustard. Floral. Perfect.
Oh, and it was on sale too.
So I whirled my way into the fitting room. Slipped the dress on and it was gorgeous! And it fit perfectly!…almost.
It was the same problem I’d come across time and time again. Everything fits, except for the bust. And I think, “Oh but it’s so pretty. It’s OK, I’ll wear a singlet underneath”. And I do, a few times. But it’s still restrictive and I don’t know about you, but I like to be able to breathe. And when it gets hot (and I live in QLD, hot is what it gets) that extra layer of clingy material is not in the least bit welcome.
So I have a dress that I can’t wear without something over or under it. And after harrumphing around the bedroom last night getting ready for dinner I silently said to myself, “This is it. I’m not doing it anymore”.
And then I said it not so silently to The Man when he was taking pictures. He was surprised, he knows I love the dress and he suggested I put it away until winter when I don’t mind the layers. But to be honest, I’ve had enough.
I don’t want to have a wardrobe filled with clothes I can only wear a certain way. I don’t want to wear things that don’t fit me properly. I don’t want to dress in stuff that restricts my breathing.
Sure, I know I’ll probably forget it all the instant I see the perfect pretty frock. But as long as I remember it all again, it’ll be fine.
So I guess yeah, this is good bye.
To my mustard dress (and your friend’s who’ll be going too), I hope someone’s eyes light up when they find you. And I hope you bring them big, deep lung-fulls of unrestricted happiness.
Shirt: Jay Jays
Belt: Valley Girl
Shoes: City Beach