Mallrat

Jen and I went to the mall today. Yes, I dragged my sorry ass to the nearest temple of conspicuous consumption to buy ... a dress. It was horrific. There was a bizarre bike expo going on (you know, like eXtreme bike riding) and this weird little booth that kept trying to convince people that they really wanted weird strips of color put in their hair. Neither of these "attractions" really helped my headache.

But Jen and I have a wedding to go to in two weeks, and we needed something to wear -- and we needed each other to get us through the nightmare that is finding the perfect outfit for an afternoon wedding in the Adirondacks. Not too fancy, not too casual, nothing black, nothing white, and oh, yeah, red is a bad choice too. Who makes up these f-ing rules?

Filene's was a nightmare. It was a graveyard of hideous dresses. Macy's was a little better -- Jen managed to find a very fetching brown and cream polka dot dress. We quickly decided that I wasn't really a dress person (um, yeah), so we moved on to skirt/top combos. I tried on the world's ugliest skirt -- it managed to make me look like a magenta and paisley sausage. That fabric will haunt me for weeks. You can understand why that experience made me a little gun shy at following stores. I finally found something wearable at J. Jill. And I only had to have one item of the ensemble shipped to me.

From this experience I have learned two things: Never go to the mall without your wingman. And if you get married, tell everyone you invite that they're not allowed in unless they're wearing jeans and sneakers.