Dress (de)Code: Almost Perfection.

There it was. Absolute perfection.

Hanging on a clothes rack outside the store, it was the unassuming “SALE, $35″ that first caught my eye. Without slowing down my pace, I casually scanned the rack from the corner of my eye- ready to dismiss its measly offerings. Then I did a double take. Quiet and dignified, it hung patiently in line. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around. It was the dress I didn’t know I was looking for. Till now.

Upon first glance, it was a simple affair of black and white. The white Victorian ruffles down the neckline was a clever juxtapose to the stark black buttons and clean minimal nehru collar. Gingerly pulling the dress towards me, its sleek silhouette became apparent with its tapered hemline that was literally mere inches short of classifying it as a micromini. Yet its sauciness was tempered with an intelligence that went beyond looks. The bottom of the dress was designed as a tulip skirt- the excess cut around the hips meant it would complement a woman’s curves rather than punishing it. Yet its playfulness was just as endearing- ‘ Oh look, its not really a white blouse tucked into a high-waist tulip skirt… its a one-piece dress! Oooo…trompe o’eil! And check out the skinny braided leather suspenders attached…how cheeky!’

Perfection. On sale.

Then I looked up and saw him.
There he was. Close to perfection.
I did a double take. He was standing in the storefront and adjusting a mannequin on display.

“Uh-oh.”

Tall and dignified, his brown hair fell into his eyes as he focused on the task at hand. His cheeks, sculpted like a Greek statue, were ironically the same shade of pink as those found on cherubs in Raphael paintings. He stepped away from the mannequin and furrowed his brows. A moment or two of deliberation, he disappeared from view into the back of the store. I snapped back into reality and my task at hand. Still clutching the dress, I deliberated for a moment, took the hanger off the rack and stepped into the store.

There was another customer trying on a jacket. It was not as perfect as my perfect dress. He was standing behind the cash register as my eyes darted around for the fitting room, “Can I try this on?” He smiled and said “Go ahead.”

The tone of his voice threw a glimmer of hope- it would seem that he was straight.

As I entered the bright fitting room and drew the curtain behind, my mind started wandering.
“You do not need another to add to your 76-strong army of dresses”
“But this is the dress I’ve been looking for!”
“Since when?”
“5 minutes ago”
“What if it doesn’t fit?”
“Don’t say that!”
“It did look a tad small… uhoh, did I hear a rip?”
“Stop imagining things!”
“He’s cute isn’t he?”
“Yes he is..”

I took a deep breath and exhaled. Examining myself in the mirror, I was surprised by how well it fitted. The ruffles were subtle without losing its girlishness and the skirt draped elegantly across my hips. In it, I was everything I wanted to stand for right now at that moment- intelligent, feminine, sexy and playful.
“Wow”, I told myself, “it really is perfect.”
As I peeled off the dress, my mind was already set. “Now if only it was that simple with him…” I sighed during the awkward moment of having my hands in mid-air as I pull my sweater back on (I always had the unexplainable fear of having the curtains drawn open while in the state of undress).

I came out of the room and he was waiting outside.
“So, how did it fit?”
“Oh wonderful, I’m definitely going to get this but I’m just going to browse around for a bit.”
His eyes were hazel and warm.
“Sure, whatever we have in the store is on sale because the new Winter collection’s coming in tomorrow”, he casually announced as he carefully folded my perfect dress and placed it atop the counter.
“Really?” My tone went up a few notches in anticipation. A man after my shopaholic heart. “Do you have any fall jackets?”
He paused and cocked his head to the side. “Hmm.. let me show you. We don’t have the discounted tags on them but just ask me and I’ll let you know how much it’ll cost.”
I gazed longingly at the navy military blazer he’d led me to. I touched its silver buttons and admired the detailed stitching on them. It was an interestingly beautiful jacket. But there was something missing. It wasn’t perfect.
“Do you want to try it?”
“Hmm..I really shouldn’t”
“Oh don’t worry, I’ll put it back on the mannequin. It’s no problem at all…” as he unfastened the silver buttons and handed the jacket over. Aww, how chivalrous.

I looked into the mirror and noted how well-made the jacket was. I didn’t look half-bad in it but still. It didn’t seem right. For me at least.

I held onto the jacket and wandered around the tiny store area, absent-mindedly sweeping my hands across the other beautiful pieces hanging on the racks as my heart raced.
‘Should I try to engage in a conversation? Why isn’t he engaging me in a conversation? Am I too obvious? What should I say? Should I just pay for it now? Maybe I should pretend to be on a call to stay in the store longer? Does he think I’m weird for going in circles looking at the same rack for the 4th time?’

I made up my mind as i went up to the register and handed it back to him. “Nah, I’ll sleep on the jacket but I’m definitely getting the dress.”
He smiled and said “Sure, will that be cash or credit?”
His lips were pink and soft. He was such a pretty boy.
“Cash please.”

As he wrote the receipt for my perfect dress, i glanced at the screen of his laptop that was sharing space on the counter. It had a video still of Bill Clinton giving a speech alongside a fancy dashboard. Aha! My one hope at a conversation starter- “Are you editing a video?”

He looked startled for a second before realizing that I was referring to the work-in-progress on his laptop. His smile became broader as his tone raised a few notches “Yeah, just doing some editing for myself.”

Dashing, knows fashion, smart and creative. No way.
“I’ll assume this isn’t your real job then.” (Wow, what an original line.)

He laughed as he handed over my change “Oh no, this is where I am when I’m helping out my girlfriend…it’s her shop. Or rather, you’re suppose to call it ‘helping out’- rather than free labor.”

Damn. And he was funny too.
“Gotcha,” I laughed at his attempt as my heart sank a lil.
“Well then, don’t forget to come in when the new collection’s here. Thanks for coming and have a good one!”
“Thanks, you too!” I hollered back as I strolled down the store aisle.

For a second, as the cool gust of air greeted me out of the store the first thought that popped into my head was “Woe is me. Why are all the good ones taken?”
“I knew he was too good to be true…lucky bitch.”
“Tough luck, old chap. Back to the drawing board.”

Then I looked down and saw in my hands the brown paper carrier with my perfect dress nestled inside the tissue paper. I smiled to myself “Well, at least I got the perfect dress I didn’t even know I was looking for.”

And I went on my way.