I am not a terribly fashionable person, clothing-wise. It’s probably my dislike of anything new that does it, and I never liked bell bottoms when they came back into fashion when I was in high school, ‘80s vests and jeans when they came back in these past couple of years, and I still don’t like super pointy toed high heels, even though they’ve been in style for many years.
Something has to stay around for quite a while for me to first get used to it, and then to like it, and finally to wear it myself. My “style” (if I have one) is very conservative.
A week or so ago I went into Goodwill with the aim of purchasing maybe three or four little sun dresses to wear around the house and to work in. I headed toward the dresses, and took a rackful into the dressing room with me.
Unfortunately, there was only one that fit me and would work for around the house purposes, and when I had acertained that, it was time to be silly. Before entering the dressing room, I had grabbed everything that looked like it would fit me, regardless of what it looked like and whether I would like to be seen in public in it: club dresses that were halter tops, strapless, or were one shoulder dresses.
There were probably quite a few people nearby that wondered what all the giggling coming from the dressing rooms was about.
To my surprise (and great amusement), most of the dresses that I’d brought in with me fit me pretty well, and the more surprising thing is that they looked good on me. This, more than anything else, is what brought on the effusion of giggling. A tube top style club dress that is brown (not a color I wear too often) with layers of floral print ruffles (not since I was 6) should not look good on me, but it did.
Goodwill is the only place that I would possibly dare to try something like that on. In an actual store with actual prices, something like that would not be worth my time, unless I was feeling extra ridiculous and wanted the added amusement of knowing that someone would actually pay $75-$100 (or more!) for it.
After quite a bit of laughing and changing clothes and my five month old watching me like she wasn’t quite sure what to make of this behavior, I put another dress in the "yes" pile. It was a fancy dress, a halter top (the only other time I’ve worn one was as a bridesmaid at my brother’s wedding), and it had never been worn; it still had the original tag. I couldn’t tell what the first price had been, but I could only imagine, since it had been price slashed to $62.99. This discovery caused more mirth, and then I headed over to the shoes.
It’s always fun to look at shoes at Goodwill. Lots of them are ridiculous (leopard printed, 6 or 7 inch heels, or they look like someone went crazy on them with a bedazzler), but I don’t feel bad trying them on because they’re not full price. I would never buy a pair of gold shoes at Dillards (or wherever), but I’d grab them at Goodwill. Not because I particularly like gold shoes, but because they ridiculously matched my already ridiculous dress.
I cut back on my giggling while checking out so the employee wouldn’t think I was a crazy person (or more of a crazy person, in case she had happened to see me coming out of the changing room), and left with my purchases.
Several days later, my mother was startled by my appearance when she came over to watch my daughters so that my husband and I could enjoy a night out to celebrate our anniversary. “Hon...!” she exclaimed. “...look at you!” I looked nice, yes, but I did not look like myself. The outfit was so un-me that it took her a few minutes to get used to it.
My husband raised his eyebrows. (This is a facial expression of his that simultaneously informs me that while he enjoys the results of my shopping, he wants to know how much that result cost.) I spun around for him, then said, “I don’t really care whether I wear it again or not: the dress and shoes together only cost me ten dollars.”
I like my conservative style: shorts that cover my legs, shoes that I can take a step in without toppling over, and shirts that have sleeves. Once in a while, though, it’s fun to try something new, something I would never normally wear.
Just as long as it only costs me ten bucks.
No comments:
Post a Comment