Shopping Expedition

Well, I knew the description of the dress I have to get for my sister's wedding in a few weeks, so I decided to go out today and get a couple of instantiations of it. I'll bring them all up north and together we can decide which one I should wear for her big day.

Yesterday I asked Linda where I should go to get a floor-length red evening gown. She said immediately, "Neiman-Marcus." I've never bought anything at a Needless Markups (a nickname I learned from Sandy Lerner, lo these many years ago), but if you gotta, you gotta.

So today I went to Neiman-Marcus, which if you're looking for it is on Wilshire in Beverly Hills. (Of course.)

I went to the 2nd floor, because I saw some evening gowns, and the first one I put my hand on was $3000. I checked the tag again, wanting to be sure that I had read that right, and I thought, "What kind of clothes shopping does Linda do, for crying out loud?" I decided to see what was on the other floors before I ran screaming from the building altogether.

I found more evening dresses, somewhat more reasonably priced (well, by a factor of 10) on the 3rd floor. I walked over to the only two red dresses that fit the bill and was intercepted immediately by a saleslady. I told her what I was looking for and she nodded. She checked the dresses and picked one of bright red Ellen Tracy dresses up. She looked me up and down and said, "I'll see if we have the Nicole Miller in a size 6."

I looked around to see who she was talking to.

They didn't have Nicole Miller in a size 6--only the size 10. (The Ellen Tracy was a size 6.) But I took both dresses in the changing room and tried them on. They both fit. (So much for the importance of the size number.) And they both looked great. I couldn't believe it. The seamtress arrived--yes, Neiman-Marcus will send a seamstress to your dressing room to pin up the hem, so you can get an idea of length--and pinned the Ellen Tracy not only up but in. "Excuse me, miss, but this dress is already a size 6--stop that."

I couldn't decide. The Nicole Miller supported my bosom better; the Ellen Tracy is more of a statement. (You can't wear a stitch of clothing underneath either--any time you see a woman in an expensive evening dress, know that she is one fabric rip away from being stark naked.) I bought both dresses, knowing that at the least I would return one if not both of them. Yes, it's more than I've ever spent on any piece of clothing in my entire life. No, I have no idea, given Darin and my partying patterns, where the hell I would ever wear one of these dresses again. But they're pretty darn foxy-looking on me.

Seeing myself in the mirror like that--turning from side to side, admiring the drape of the fabric--inspired me to go out and get some new clothes. One of the things I've complained about recently is that because I've been inside of me as the diet has changed my body, I'm not that aware of the changes. My body still has the same shape, after all: tiny waist, large hips, large thighs. It's just that all the pieces are smaller versions of what they were. And I'm not that aware of the differences, because I haven't changed my look that much--I'm still wearing jeans and t-shirts all the time.

So I decided to change that today.

I certainly wasn't going to restock my wardrobe at N-M, so after buying the dresses I hightailed it out of there, intending to go to the Beverly Center. I proceeded to get lost in Beverly Hills and Beverlywood and parts further east. (I think they were further east.) I finally oriented myself and came back to the right area. I saw Loehmann's and decided to stop in there--stock up on low priced sporty clothing, right?

Wrong.

The place was packed. I checked the place carefully, but they didn't seem to be giving the stuff away. People were crammed in like sardines, pawing through the clothes. The few things I picked up were of okay quality, and when I got to the dressing room, there was nowhere to change, so I had to do it in the waiting area outside the dressing room, where several other women were already stripping and trying on clothes. None of the skirts I picked up fit or felt comfortable. I quickly handed them to the dressing room attendant and got out of there.

I continued on to the Beverly Center--which, despite being a block away, took me about 20 minutes to drive to because of all the street construction going on in that part of town--and headed first to Bloomie's.

I found some jean skirts and khaki skirts at Calvin Klein that I tried on. "Calvin," I thought, as I twirled in front of the mirror, "I love you." These skirts looked amazing. I bought only the blond jean skirt, although perhaps I should have gotten the khaki one as well: Bloomie's is having a killer sale this weekend. I would have gotten the blue jean skirt, except it had no waist band (is this like a style or something?) and so had no belt loops, and the waist was too loose for me to wear comfortably...a size 6 skirt has a waist too loose for me! I love you Calvin!

I stopped in the hosiery department and stocked up on tights, as I've been thinking about doing for weeks now.

I bought a couple of brassieres. Mostly because the ones I've gotten are just old, not because my bra size has changed.

I stopped in Express and in Guess and in several other shops. I looked in Macy's for more evening dresses and didn't find anything. At the Gap I found a blue jean skirt.

I realize that I am now somewhere between the teeny-bopper style of Express and the going-to-work formality of Macy's (even their women's sportswear department). I have to find somewhere that has clothes that speak to me. I guess I could try Nordstrom, but that's over in Glendale, and so will have to wait until another day.

I came home and changed into a pair of tights and the blue jean skirt. I haven't worn a skirt for months, if not years. It feels kind of weird, but it also reminds me of a time when I felt much freer in my body and more experimental with my clothing choices. Wearing something different reinforces for me that my body has changed. I can feel it.

Next time you see me, I might just be in a skirt and pumps instead of blue jeans and sneakers.

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

Yesterday: 3 miles.

Today: 4.2 miles, and I got the worst cramp at the 3 mile marker. I seem to get this cramp whenever I take the route that goes west from my house, and I'm beginning to think it's because there are a lot of traffic lights on that part of the route...that never go my way, so I have to stop and wait, which means maybe I'm not breathing correctly as I wait. It's the only explanation I can think of.