I was having a â€œfeeling frumpyâ€ day.Â My hair kept heading off in directions known only to ancient gods and winged animals, my Spanx groaned as I pulled them up and made a snarky comment about â€œonly being able to do so much,â€ and my freshly painted fingernails, barely dry, hosted multiple dings, smears, and chips.Â (Life lesson #76: Donâ€™t attempt to pull on Spanx for a minimum of three days after painting fingernails.)
Searching through the closet, I slapped the hangers along the rod with blistering speed.Â No. No. No. Oh heck no.Â Surely there had to be something I could wear that would counteract my mood and appearance.Â A denim dress stopped my closet assault, and I pulled it out for a closer inspection.
A few weeks prior I had purchased the dress from eShakti.Â If youâ€™re not familiar with this company I highly recommend a look-see.Â Not only do they sell rather retro-styled itemsâ€”which I adoreâ€”but they will customize many of their styles for the small fee of 7 or 8 dollars.Â For instance, not too long ago I bought a red silk dress from them.Â It was on sale, and, I believe the promo code included free customization.Â I asked eShakti to remove the sleeves, deepen the V-neck, and lengthen the hem to below the knee.Â As I remember the final cost was something like $69.Â Sweet.
Anyway, back to my frumpzilla day â€¦
I had not worn the denim dress yet.Â In fact, I had not even tried it on.Â When it arrived in the mail I hung it in the closet and trusted it would fit and look fine.Â Iâ€™m crazy like that.Â Or, heavily in denial.Â Probably the latter because the dress was a style I donâ€™t usually gravitate towards.Â My hourglass body goes mega-matronly with the least provocation, so I try to avoid fussy details.Â I also tend not to wear above the knee length skirts and dresses because my legs are not that great.Â That said, this dress has an A-line pleated skirt, is above the knee in length, and boasts gold buttons that strain just a wee bit against my rib melons.
I looked in the mirror and frowned.Â I turned right and left, caught a view of my backside, and frowned some more.Â Frumpy. Â Who was I kidding?Â The day belonged to the frumpy fairies. Â Just as I debated finding something else to wear my husband popped into the room, gave me one of those head to toe oogles, and declared, â€œNice dress!Â But donâ€™t wear those sandals you are holding.â€Â Huh.
I swapped out the flat sandals for gold colored wedges and threw a gold-flecked scarf around my shoulders.Â With a dedicated squint I looked frumpy, but coordinated.Â Coordi-frumpy. Much better.Â Not.Â My husband and I headed off for church and errands.
Shortly after our arrival at church a gentleman greeted me with, â€œWhat a lovely scarf you are wearing.â€Â I smiled and rejoiced in the fact that he was looking at my shoulders and not my billowy butt.
After church I went into the grocery store to pick up a few items while my husband stayed in the car and read the Sunday paper.Â As I pushed the cart up the aisle in search of cat treats, a woman came up alongside of me.Â â€œYou look really pretty.â€Â I stopped, puzzled and unsure if she really meant me.Â She laughed.Â â€œYou donâ€™t know me.Â But I wanted to tell you I think you look really pretty.â€Â I ducked my head and said, â€œThank you,â€ but I was wondering where the prank cameras were.
After tossing several bags of cat treats into the cart (Pudgy has needs.Â NEEDS!), I veered into the produce aisle.Â Reaching for a bag of organic carrots, I noted a man staring at me.Â He was about a foot away.Â â€œHiiiii,â€ he said, drawing out the word for too long to be pure of thought.Â He smiled and boldly stared at those aforementioned gold buttons.Â â€œHi,â€ I said and looked away.Â Yep, just buying carrots.Â Orange organic carrots. La la laâ€¦minding my own business.
Just at that moment a teenage boy, heavily laden with produce boxes, ambled up to me.Â â€œNice dress!â€Â My confusion grew as this day got stranger and stranger.Â â€œThank you,â€ I stuttered.Â â€œNo, I mean REALLY nice dress.â€Â He nodded his head in beat to his words.
I was in the Twilight Zone.Â Seriously.Â After paying for my groceries I hoisted the bags and started walking across the parking lot.Â We were parked at the far end, although I could see my husbandâ€™s head bent over the paper as he read and waited.Â Just about the time I reached the halfway point, a man closed the trunk of his vehicle and looked up at me.Â His head tilted a little, and with the tiniest hesitation he said, â€œHiiiiiiii.â€
What the ????Â Maybe I need to rethink how frumpy works for me.Â What would a few pink sponge curlers in my hair do to drive the men crazy?Â And, and, if I really want to be a vamp perhaps I can slither into a stained sweatshirt and pilled stretch pants.Â Cue the Twilight Zone music.Â Do do do do, do do do doâ€¦