The Size of Success

I have a wedding to attend in September.  I'm super excited about it and of course want to look fantastic!  I think most women think about these things quite far in advance and since I'm used to not being able to find anything that fits I'm still in the habit of months in advance shopping.  Since I was in one of the stores near our new Marshals yesterday I decided to go in and try some things on.  My son was not very happy about this event although he did enjoy the lights in the change room.  I did have to promise him a special lunch to keep him somewhat quiet and well behaved and I can't say even that worked very well.  I didn't get a chance to try on to many things due to the fore mentioned child an quickly grabbed 3 choices from the racks.  The first was a red halter top.  It was crazy how different it looked on than on the hanger.  It ended up being almost totally backless and had a slit that was most scandalous.  I quickly returned that to the hanger.  There was no way I would have been able to sit, or frankly move, in that dress.  The next choice turned out to be completely transparent.  It was like putting on very pretty tissue paper.  This choice was also quickly returned.  I had higher hopes for dress number 3.  It seemed like it could be a quite cute, sort of short strapless number with a fun sparkly detail on the one side.  Trying to put it on I was quickly stumped until I realized that it wasn't totally unzipped.  It had stopped at a seam and I had thought it was all the way open.  I breathed out a sigh of relief that was short lived.  Once I managed to get it "on" I realized there was no way I would ever be able to zip this thing up.  I sadly struggled back out of the too small dress with a wave of depression settling over me until a bright light of illumination suddenly struck.  As I hung the dress up with the front to me the tag happened to pop up and a little number 8 was staring back at me!  An 8?!?!  Someone put it in the wrong spot!  Now my depression at not being able to zip up a 12 had turned into excitement over at least being able to squeeze myself into an 8. 

It's so strange how these little numbers can have such power over how we feel about ourselves.  I was the same person walking into that change room as when I walked out but somehow the numbers on those little tags manage to create feelings of either joy and confidence or far more often depression and self doubt.  Maybe I need to have a little dress fairy to shop with that magically changes all the numbers in the cloths that look good to 8s.  Maybe a better tactic would be to stop caring what they say but somehow that just doesn't seem to work no mater how much I try to ignore it. 

So the dress shopping continues.  I will be sure to go by myself next time or at least with someone who can give me a better opinion than my son and if anyone has any advice on a place to find a fantastic dress for a really good price I would also be grateful. 

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