First there was a dress
A few weeks before I started working for a certain Jewish named discount store predominantly for the mature woman, when I went in to retrieve an application in fact, I wandered through the store and saw a dress. I am infatuated with dresses, though I rarely wear them. I want to wear them, all the time. I have a few in my wardrobe that sadly do not get to see the light of day, let alone a night on the town; an actuality that doesn’t stop me from looking at dresses and dreaming up scenarios to wear a dress. The dress that caught my attention was a snazzy a-line made from a geometric patterned material in earth tones and trimmed in black. I was immediately drawn to it and could see myself in it, smoothly moving from day to night. It was in my size and on the sale rack. However, when one is looking for a job, a frivolous purchase, such as a dress- no matter how marked down it had become from its original department store price- is a no go. When I first saw the dress, it was twenty dollars, which may not seem a high price, but twenty dollars, when you are unemployed, may as well be a thousand! Also, at the time, it represented food for a week (yes I am that frugal). So, I smiled at the dress and thought- if I get this job and you are still here after a few pay days, maybe kid, just maybe…
I got the job, after what I have come to call the ‘texas wait and see’ period of a week or two- just when you resign yourself to not getting the job- the offer call comes and makes you shake your head. Each shift I worked, I would walk by the dress, say hello to it and see if it had come down any further. I got paid, and, of course, the money went to bills and survival. This continued for weeks, until one day, as I headed back to climb the stairs to clock in by way of the dress- it was gone. The dress was no longer there. I shrugged and consoled myself with the fact that it clearly wasn’t meant to be and it was still out of my price range anyway- even with my discount. Days and weeks and probably a month went by before I found myself behind the register during a fourteen hour sale. The lines went back to the end of the store. I was in a boxed off cage of sorts, happy to be busy so the day would go by fast, when what should land on my counter top- but the dress. It had been in the middle of a pile of clothes placed there for purchase by two sisters who were delightful. We had been joking about something inane as I rang up their choices, and then my hand fell upon the dress. I asked them where they found it and was regaled by it being the only one on the rack like it and how one of the sisters looked great in it and how they were going to Vegas so they needed something fun to wear. The sister it was for wasn’t super excited about it, yet she figured it would do, especially after her sister’s insistence. I tried to dissuade her, she wouldn’t budge, I rang it up only to discover its current price was two dollars! Ouch. On top of that, seeing as it was on clearance, it was further reduced. Which means, she got my dress- that she didn’t even want- for one dollar and forty cents!
Sure, one of the shapes in the pattern was filled in with a color I really shouldn’t wear. Okay, I wasn’t in a place where I would have an occasion to wear the dress. True, I never even tried it on. But there it was and it was gone. It was my fault. I should have been more diligent in looking for it when I didn’t see it that day. I should have put it on hold. I should have come up with a clever reason why they couldn’t buy it. I should have just bought it in the first place. And if you still think this is about a dress- you were like me- and hadn’t been paying attention. I got the wake up call when the same set of sisters came back into the store to tell me how nice I am and how great the dress worked out and how I should just be their personal shopper. Forget that all I did was ring up their total and bag the items for them after taking payment and that I was serious when I tried to talk them out of buying the dress. Their pure adoration for me struck the cord that I needed to hear, even if perhaps I didn’t want to hear it- None of this has been about the dress, nor any other dress, for that matter.
I have become so comfortable with helping others and making sure things stay or go smoothly for everyone else- that I forgot to do the same for myself. This has been going on for years, yet really came into all encompassing full force this last year. I can easily spend hundreds of dollars on other people’s desires, though will have buyer’s remorse before I buy something for myself. Sadly, this applies to almost all areas of my life as of late. In making sure everyone else is taken care of and happy and comfortable, I have become a shadow- diminishing, complacent and slowly loosing my voice. My love has been whispering in my ear about this- and now I finally see it. What’s more, is that I feel it. This awareness is heavy. It requires a change, a shift in attitude. A special introspective lens will be needed to discern why I let it go this far, get so bad, that I wasn’t even worth the frivolity of a silly little dress- let alone making my dreams, and therefore, my life come true.
Yes, perhaps there was a dress first- but it isn’t any longer. As I allow my dreams and goals and wishes to come forward once more, my wardrobe shall be stocked with all kinds of real, metaphorical and imagined dresses to clothe me- inside and out. Moving forward, I will be back in step and gosh darn it- every now and again, come first.