While packing for a bachelorette party in Palm Springs last week, I laid out my outfits like any neurotic packer and mentally went through our itinerary. Swimwear for pool days, a cute top and shorts for a cookout, check and check. But my closet came up short in the “going out” category. Nothing I had seemed appropriate for a 100 degree night out dancing. After trying on around 5 options, I found a bright yellow dress that I wore 4 years ago in college. Skinny straps, open back, short, and bright. PERFECT. It was the ideal dress for a night on the town in the desert.
And then just like a Christmas miracle, I tried on the dress and it still fit! Cut to me prancing around my apartment trying to pick out shoes for my “desert cocktail attire”. Once successful, I packed the chosen a pair of wedges and went to take of the dress.
The next two hours unfolded as follows…
Hmmm the zipper won’t budge. Head to the mirror to look closely at the side of the dress and see if I was delusional and not unzipping it correctly.
Yank at the zipper for 5 minutes. (Sidenote: my two roommates are both out at dinners… I begin to fear that I may be in this dress for a few hours.)
No progress. I call my mom in frustration and ask for suggestions. Her laughter is very encouraging.
I end the call and pour myself a glass of wine. Sit down on the couch and take a break before heading back to battle.
NO luck. If anything the zipper seemed to give less and less.
I make a few frantic calls. But it is dinner time and this is not a life or death issue (yet) so I don’t leave any voicemails.
I let out a string of words I am not proud to have used cursing the damn dress. STILL no movement. I however feel a little better and then go and settle on the couch with another glass of wine and turn on Real Housewives.
I have accepted that I will just be in my “desert cocktail attire” until someone arrives home from dinner to rescue me.
That lasts about 5 minutes. I am nothing but persistent and the dress is starting to feel like it is closing in on my ribcage.
I head to the kitchen and grab scissors. This is it. I am over it. I just want the damn dress off.
But still not wanting to ruin my now nemesis of a dress, I try one last time at the zipper. And VOILÀ, it unzips, and I do a happy dance over the dress. I shoot off a few texts to share I am free from the horrible confinds of “desert cocktail attire”.
I finish my wine on the couch, happily in pajamas!!!
Needless to say I donned shorts, a tank, and heels for our night out in the desert. #damndresszipper