Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Second hand karma

I adore op shops. I love how my fingers get dirty after pawing through racks of random clothes (although I do feel so inclined to wash my hands, in case I catch tuberculosis). I marvel at how cheap the little old ladies price things (two dollar leather pencil skirt, wheeee). I also get really excited at the prospect of bridesmaids' dresses.

So I was at my favourite haunt the other day, when I found a dress. The most hideous of hideous dresses. The fuggliest of fuggly garments. And I had to try it on. It was composed of a crinkley black velvet top, complete with shoulder pads, puffy sleeves and a neckline so high I thought I would stop breathing. The skirt was pretty much a plastic picnic blanket (crispy, plaid patterned, possible carcinogenic?). It had this frighteningly large satin bow on the bum. I tried it on, had a bit of a chuckle to myself, gawked at the $70 price tag, then proceeded to get undressed.

Shit. I'm stuck.

The problem with op shops is that obviously the sizing is the luck of the draw. I was silly, and didn't realise how small said ugly dress was. I was in the change room for a good ten minutes, wrestling with this abomination of fabric. There was no way I would pay for a seventy dollar dress, then walk around in public wearing an eighties fashion victim's imagination. I finally got it off, with much pulling and pulling, sucking in and wiggling.

A friend later said it was probably karma for making fun of the dress in the first place. I didn't realise that good deeds applied to garments, especially to ones that are so clearly fucked up.

1 comments:

Anonymous said...

If Stephen King's car - Christine - could be psychotically evil, then the dress could have had its own demonic personality. Too many rejections, too many harsh words, derisory laughter ... Lucky you managed to get away!