OUT OF RETIREMENT
I have officially pulled out my "retired" dresses. As I was trying to remember why this particular dress was packed and labeled (always loved it) I realize that the lining was ripped. No biggie one would say, just go home and change. Right? Wrong! Not when you're moving around with a person who is convinced that there should be a death penalty for tardiness. We were on our way to Easter dinner (habesha easter). I begged, I pleaded, only to continue to beg some more, but nothing worked. At one point I considered highjacking the car, but to wrestle on the highway for a ripped lining didn't seem very justifiable.
Dinner was amazing, the people were intelligent and fun, and the dress kept riding up and I kept pulling that bad boy down. Since I've always had a hard time finding well fitted clothes, pulling dresses down in the name of decency has become somewhat of an art form. I just have a way of doing it very discretely (I think). In the middle of a laugh, when everyone is looking away, or simply blatantly in peoples faces like it's the most normal thing to do.
I came home to examine the damages and sure enough the rip had reached my shoulder blades. Back in the bin you go!
