We're going to this fancy evening wedding in Hollywood in August & I've had no luck finding something to wear. Post-preg lbs + huge boobs = nothing in my closet fits (I was trying all my dresses on back on the day that IK pooped on her bouncy chair). Add into the mix the state of my bank account in these waning days of my maternity leave and you see the problem.
I was mulling things over on the car ride back from Jersey yesterday when I had a stroke of genius. If I fit into the floor length black strapless boho chiffon number that I wore to my friend's wedding in Atlanta about five years ago, I could hack the hem off below the knee and it might actually look tres au courant. It has one of those unfinished hems anyway so I wouldn't even need to bother sewing it -- maybe just sneak a nail scissors into my clutch in case I noticed any stray threads on the way into the reception. Problem solved!
So today, I bided my time until Mr. Stewgler left for "work" (by which I mean that he's probably on his way to the apple store for an iphone) & topped of IK so she'd doze and then I dove into the nether regions of my closet.
And it's gone.
Believe me, I triple checked. I even looked on Mr's side in case I stashed it over there one day when its long-ass hem was getting in my way. Gone. I stood there stumped for a moment and then had a hazy vision of myself packing it carefully into a trash bag with a bunch of old college counselor clothes to take to the Goodwill.
Damn.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
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