Dressed to Impress

We traipse through the mall looking for a store I won't turn to stone upon entering. Walk on by Charlotte Russe (aka Harlot Shoes) and Mandee (Candy) and some other store I didn't catch the name of but which I will simply refer to as Ho' Bags R Us.

Finally, almost in a gesture that intends to say "I'll be flexible and I will try to be open-minded, but I reserve the right to detest everything and ultimately veto your misguided choices even at the register," we walk into Wet Seal. The name even skeeves me.

I am shocked that I don't actually vaporize as I cross the threshold. My very being is opposed to this type of cheesey, cheep, poorly made, too short, too low, too tight, falls apart even as you are wearing it kind of teenaged fashion whammy.

The music is loud. (No, I am not a hundred years old, but I can only calculate 20% off of cheap so accurately with the Pussycat Dolls screeching about hating this part right heeeere.)

There is a dizzying arrangement of ensembles at varying heights up and down walls. The racks obscure other racks. You are forced to navigate a maze of rounders and other display gizmos that are meant to lead you down the road to certain ruin.

I hate almost everything. I can't see a single tree for the forest of heinous fashion before me. I am almost ready to begin my tirade when I spot something high up on a wall. It is a ( no doubt cheaply constructed) kind of cute little dress ensemble. A beige skirt with a tame little navy bow print, attached to a navy top (by elastic, natch) that has spaghetti straps and a flounce across the neckline that covers your boobs (or more importantly, Hil's boobs). I turn to Hil. "That's almost cute."

And remarkably she is sold. We look on the lower racks for her size and find the dress. I find a beige wrap that might help to make the transition from synagogue to dance floor, and we head for the (gross, dirty, poorly maintained) fitting room.

Hil gets the dress on and loves it. I am thrilled. It really is cute on her little tween body.

So I begin to preach. "This little scrappy dress is great for the dance following the Bat Mitzvah ceremony, Hil. But the ceremony is in a synagogue. It's like church. You need to be a little more covered up. She puts on the wrap. It's cute but not perfect. She'll convince Lars that morning that she doesn't need it and look like a floozy.

With a "maybe" in hand we head out with a renewed sense of purpose. We find another cute dress and head back in. It's an I'll-fitting "no" and I leave Hil to redress while I wander the racks in search of hope.

Buried on a rack of items that clearly were placed together out of desperation, I find an adorable dress. Same straps, cute neckline, full skirt, fitted bodice. Black with white little birds in flight...and so that it doesn't scream "I am wearing my mother's dress!" a hot pink zipper runs up the front of the top. Perfection. Black is easier to pair with a wrap than navy. I have a cute beaded one at home that Hil won't actually hate.

I take it to her and she loves it. Puts it on. Too big. I return to the rack with fingers crossed and get the next size smaller. And miraculously, also find a little navy (cheap, unlined...)faux linen jacket with the sleeves pushed up to the elbow hat might do the trick with the other dress.

The zipper dress is a perfect fit and a big hit with Hil who can not stop admiring herself in it. I eventuall coax her out of it asking her to put on the other dress and see how it looks with the jacket. I offer to get both, and keep the one from the other store for fun. The jacket works beautifully. I leave her to admire herself a little longer and re-dress while I return all the No's to the rack, since the gum chewing sales girl will probably never get to it.

And in my travels I find a cute pair of neutral sandals - and by devine intervention, a pair that are patent leather in the same shade of hot pink as the zipper. I hand them over the door to Hil, who would die if someone could even see her in her bra for a second.

They fit and she loves them.

We eventually make our way with all our loot to the gum chewer. $109.00 for everything.

I think I'll spring for lunch.