Dear Reader Column 2-17-05

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Dear Reader,

I've owned several pieces of clothing that looked great on me, but I shouldn't have bought them because they were too complicated to wear.

I remember a one piece jumpsuit--the kind that zipped all the way up in the back--it had only one way in and out and I couldn't reach the zipper by myself. Now, in the morning I could ask my husband to do the honors, but it's a little tougher recruiting zipper assistance when I'm out in a public place and I have to visit the bathroom. "Excuse me. Is there anyone out there who could come in the stall and help me unzip this, and then hang around and help me zip back up?" Nope, not too many takers on that request. In fact, comments like that tended to clear out the bathroom quickly.

A sales clerk assured me the other day that the thin red watch band that was supposed to wrap twice around my arm would look great on me--and it did. The only problem was that unless I held one end of the watch strap in my teeth, wrapped it around with my other hand, and then did some acrobatics on the display counter to try to hold everything in place while I fastened it, that watch was not a one-person accessory.

Nope, if I can't get it on by myself I don't buy it. You'd think that Golden Shopping Rule would be fool-proof, wouldn't you? But the other day I was trying on a tight spandex shirt in the dressing room. Over my head, arms through the sleeves, looked in the mirror, didn't like what I saw, started pulling it off up over my head, and I was stuck. I'm not kidding. I couldn't move the shirt up or down. It was my first retail 9-1-1 call. The clerk who came running to help assured me it was her first time, too. Aren't I lucky?

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
www.DearReader.com

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Comments

[tish]

Your story about getting stuck in the shirt in the dressing room was hilarious! But don't feel bad, that's happened to me too. I was so embarrassed that, for a while, I never told anyone. Then one day at work, the other girls and I were sharing a few "I'm so stupid" funny stories with each other, and when I told that story, they all confessed that it'd happened to them too! It's that inital moment of panic (which usually occurs at a point when your arms and torso are at some pretty weird angles,you suddenly feel like a failed contortionist, and you're praying that some perv in the security dept of the store is not watching you on secret hidden camera) that causes you to thrash around like a hooked fish. And somehow in the moment of panicky thrashing, your arm or elbow comes free. It's then that you quickly get redressed (in your old baggy sweatshirt and faded jeans that you feel so suddenly thankful for) and vacate the premises immediately!

I love reading your columns! You make my day!