dress size smaller.”
The saleswoman nods as if this makes perfect sense. “That's not unusual, dear. We never do the final alteration until a couple of weeks before the wedding. We want the dress to fit perfectly.”
“But I-”
“No buts,” says Joy. “I think this is the one, and I think we all know it.”
“But I can't possibly buy it today.” Then it occurs to me that it may be too expensive. “I don't even know how much it is.” Joy told me earlier today not to even look at the prices. “Just try things on,” she said. “See how theyfeel and what you like.” So I have totally disregarded price tags.
The saleswoman looks at the tag in the back of my dress, then finally says, “It's only nineteen nine.”
“Ninety-nine?” I repeat, incredulous at the bargain. I turn and look at the dress again. “Really, did I hear you right? Did you say ninety-nine dollars?”
She smiles and looks slightly embarrassed for me. “Nineteen hundred and nine dollars.”
Jenny laughs. “Oh, you knew that, Cate.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say, but at least Jenny understands. And I do know this: That is only ninety-one dollars less than two thousand. And there is no way I will let my parents pay that kind of money for a dress I will only wear once.
“That's not so bad,” says Joy. “Some of the dresses you tried on today were three times that.”
“No way,” I say and instantly regret it. It's as if I'm trying to look like the country bumpkin today. But I am just plain tired. And I am sick and tired of trying on stupid, expensive dresses.
“How about if I put it on my card?” says Joy. “You can take it home, show your parents, and see if they don't absolutely love it.”
“Oh, no, I can't let you-”
“I insist.” She turns to the clerk now. “If her parents don't agree, is this returnable?”
“Certainly.” The woman smiles as if this sale is in thebag. “As long as no damage is done to the dress.”
“But I can't-”
“No, Caitlin,” says Joy. “You need to give this dress a chance. If you don't get it today, it could be gone by the time you come to your senses and realize that it's perfect for you.”
I turn to Jenny for some moral support, but she is just nodding. “Really, you look like royalty in that.”
“She has sort of a Princess Grace look, doesn't she?” says the saleswoman.
“I think you're right,” says Joy. “I just loved the old Grace Kelly movies.”
I don't even know who they're talking about, but it seems like I'm not even in the room anyway. I return to the dressing room where Jenny helps me to remove the gown. “This is crazy,” I tell her.
“You look amazing in that dress,” Jenny says in a slightly irritated voice. “I would kill to look that gorgeous, and you act like you can't even see it.”
I pause and study her to see if she's just stringing me along. “Really? You think it's that great?”
“Maybe it's like me and anorexia,” she says as she reverently arranges the ribbons that hold the dress in place on the hanger. “It's like we can't really see ourselves.”
And that just gets to me. So I allow Josh's mother to put the dress on her credit card, but the whole time I'm thinking this is all wrong.
I sit in silence as Joy drives us back to our dorm. Itdoesn't really matter since she and Jenny are chatting congenially, just like old friends. And while I feel the slightest bit jealous over the way Josh's old girlfriend is suddenly bonding with my mother-in-law to be, I am also thankful because I'm so worn out that I can think of nothing to say.
By the time we reach the dorm, it is agreed, and I must admit wisely so (although I had nothing to do with it personally), that the dress should remain with Joy until I come home and have a chance to try it on for my parents.
“That way we can be sure that it will be in perfect condition, in the unlikely event you decide not to go with it.”
“But you won't do that,” Jenny says with the kind of
The saleswoman nods as if this makes perfect sense. “That's not unusual, dear. We never do the final alteration until a couple of weeks before the wedding. We want the dress to fit perfectly.”
“But I-”
“No buts,” says Joy. “I think this is the one, and I think we all know it.”
“But I can't possibly buy it today.” Then it occurs to me that it may be too expensive. “I don't even know how much it is.” Joy told me earlier today not to even look at the prices. “Just try things on,” she said. “See how theyfeel and what you like.” So I have totally disregarded price tags.
The saleswoman looks at the tag in the back of my dress, then finally says, “It's only nineteen nine.”
“Ninety-nine?” I repeat, incredulous at the bargain. I turn and look at the dress again. “Really, did I hear you right? Did you say ninety-nine dollars?”
She smiles and looks slightly embarrassed for me. “Nineteen hundred and nine dollars.”
Jenny laughs. “Oh, you knew that, Cate.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say, but at least Jenny understands. And I do know this: That is only ninety-one dollars less than two thousand. And there is no way I will let my parents pay that kind of money for a dress I will only wear once.
“That's not so bad,” says Joy. “Some of the dresses you tried on today were three times that.”
“No way,” I say and instantly regret it. It's as if I'm trying to look like the country bumpkin today. But I am just plain tired. And I am sick and tired of trying on stupid, expensive dresses.
“How about if I put it on my card?” says Joy. “You can take it home, show your parents, and see if they don't absolutely love it.”
“Oh, no, I can't let you-”
“I insist.” She turns to the clerk now. “If her parents don't agree, is this returnable?”
“Certainly.” The woman smiles as if this sale is in thebag. “As long as no damage is done to the dress.”
“But I can't-”
“No, Caitlin,” says Joy. “You need to give this dress a chance. If you don't get it today, it could be gone by the time you come to your senses and realize that it's perfect for you.”
I turn to Jenny for some moral support, but she is just nodding. “Really, you look like royalty in that.”
“She has sort of a Princess Grace look, doesn't she?” says the saleswoman.
“I think you're right,” says Joy. “I just loved the old Grace Kelly movies.”
I don't even know who they're talking about, but it seems like I'm not even in the room anyway. I return to the dressing room where Jenny helps me to remove the gown. “This is crazy,” I tell her.
“You look amazing in that dress,” Jenny says in a slightly irritated voice. “I would kill to look that gorgeous, and you act like you can't even see it.”
I pause and study her to see if she's just stringing me along. “Really? You think it's that great?”
“Maybe it's like me and anorexia,” she says as she reverently arranges the ribbons that hold the dress in place on the hanger. “It's like we can't really see ourselves.”
And that just gets to me. So I allow Josh's mother to put the dress on her credit card, but the whole time I'm thinking this is all wrong.
I sit in silence as Joy drives us back to our dorm. Itdoesn't really matter since she and Jenny are chatting congenially, just like old friends. And while I feel the slightest bit jealous over the way Josh's old girlfriend is suddenly bonding with my mother-in-law to be, I am also thankful because I'm so worn out that I can think of nothing to say.
By the time we reach the dorm, it is agreed, and I must admit wisely so (although I had nothing to do with it personally), that the dress should remain with Joy until I come home and have a chance to try it on for my parents.
“That way we can be sure that it will be in perfect condition, in the unlikely event you decide not to go with it.”
“But you won't do that,” Jenny says with the kind of
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