Reunions, dresses and the meaning of life...
So last Friday night I set off to find a dress for my high school reunion. I know what you are thinking: "How can someone who gets mistaken for a student in the lunch line go to a reunion?" But despite my youthful appearance (ha!), alas, it is time to partake in a tradition as beloved as...hmmm...I got nothin'. All that to say, I set off for the mall with a handful of discount cards (I refuse to call them coupons--I'm not buying cheese in bulk; I'm buying a dress). I thought that, surely with a whole evening and a huge mall at my disposal, I would be able to find something to wear.
This is where I should give some background. I've been a bit picky about this purchase, because, if I'm completely honest, I'm not really sure how I am going to feel spending an evening small talking with people I didn't really know that well 10 years ago and really don't know now. I think the line from _The Wedding Date_ captures my mindset best: "I['m going to] feel like crap, and if I'm gonna feel like crap, I want to look hot doing it." So off I went, to ensure that if I feel like crap that night, at least I will think I look good. :)
I went to a couple of stores, and at the final one, I found a few dresses I thought might work. I had explained to the sales woman (we'll call her Barbara) that I was looking for a reunion dress. She gave me some suggestions and sent me on my way. The dressing area was hoppin' this particular evening, and little did I know that those waiting for their loved ones to decided if they wanted grey pants or black, were watching my fashion show. After I finally somewhat decided on a dress, another sales woman threw in her two cents (we'll call her Becky). When she found out I was thinking about wearing the dress in question to a reunion, Becky informed me that the dress was too casual and would never do. I disagreed and said I didn't want to be overdressed. In an effort to prove the error of my thinking, Becky roped in an innocent bystander and asked her, as a mother, if she thought the dress would work. The woman said she thought so, but she actually liked a different dress I had tried on better (this is when I realized I was not an island after all...Simon and Garfunkel had led me astray). Yet another sales woman (we'll call her Sally) came along and begged me to try the other dress back on, just to see. Being the sweet, Southern girl I am, I obliged. Once I put it on, all aforementioned parties agreed it was a better choice. I said I felt hippy (and not like in a granola kind of way). They all said I was wrong--it was a good choice. And then things got even more interesting when a guy waiting on his significant other piped up and said he agreed...this was a good dress for a reunion. I had to laugh, because it always surprises me the things that draw people in. I think people are really sympathetic in some of the most unusual situations. I guess everyone can relate to wanting to find something that makes you feel good when you know the situation might be tricky. And both of the non-sales people in this conversation had been there, done that. So I bought the dress...and the one I was told wouldn't work (I think in my mind I am hoping that my life will becoming interesting enough that I just might need an extra fun dress...).
Want to know what I'm wearing to the reunion? I woke up the next morning, decided I didn't really feel crazy about either option, and went out to buy a full-priced, no discount dress that I loved in the first store I had gone to the night before. Some things are just worth full price I think. We'll see how I feel in a month when I'm actually there.
It's interesting though, because I started writing this blog entry because I was about to purchase my ticket and went to look at the RSVP list. As I scrolled through names, I really started having a bit of a moment. It's weird--because I love my life, my job, my tiny apartment, but I sometimes feel like seeing people you haven't seen in a while requires you to justify your existence. And I'm pretty sure that, on paper or from an outsider's view, my life is rather unimpressive. So what do I do with that? I can become self righteous or apologetic or I can pretend like I'm too good to be wrapped up in worldly possessions, but building a facade is such a waste of energy. When I start to think about it, I realize that the real evidence of a life well lived over these last 10 years isn't an impressive resume or a surprising net worth, its contentment. So I took a deep breath, realized that having strangers feel impressed with my life isn't really that important, and bought my ticket. Who knows what all of my classmates will think of what I've done with my life, but why should that really matter? I'm content most days (anyone who says they are always content is a liar...I think). And that's enough. Or at least it is at this moment. I might just have to remind myself of that later.
This is where I should give some background. I've been a bit picky about this purchase, because, if I'm completely honest, I'm not really sure how I am going to feel spending an evening small talking with people I didn't really know that well 10 years ago and really don't know now. I think the line from _The Wedding Date_ captures my mindset best: "I['m going to] feel like crap, and if I'm gonna feel like crap, I want to look hot doing it." So off I went, to ensure that if I feel like crap that night, at least I will think I look good. :)
I went to a couple of stores, and at the final one, I found a few dresses I thought might work. I had explained to the sales woman (we'll call her Barbara) that I was looking for a reunion dress. She gave me some suggestions and sent me on my way. The dressing area was hoppin' this particular evening, and little did I know that those waiting for their loved ones to decided if they wanted grey pants or black, were watching my fashion show. After I finally somewhat decided on a dress, another sales woman threw in her two cents (we'll call her Becky). When she found out I was thinking about wearing the dress in question to a reunion, Becky informed me that the dress was too casual and would never do. I disagreed and said I didn't want to be overdressed. In an effort to prove the error of my thinking, Becky roped in an innocent bystander and asked her, as a mother, if she thought the dress would work. The woman said she thought so, but she actually liked a different dress I had tried on better (this is when I realized I was not an island after all...Simon and Garfunkel had led me astray). Yet another sales woman (we'll call her Sally) came along and begged me to try the other dress back on, just to see. Being the sweet, Southern girl I am, I obliged. Once I put it on, all aforementioned parties agreed it was a better choice. I said I felt hippy (and not like in a granola kind of way). They all said I was wrong--it was a good choice. And then things got even more interesting when a guy waiting on his significant other piped up and said he agreed...this was a good dress for a reunion. I had to laugh, because it always surprises me the things that draw people in. I think people are really sympathetic in some of the most unusual situations. I guess everyone can relate to wanting to find something that makes you feel good when you know the situation might be tricky. And both of the non-sales people in this conversation had been there, done that. So I bought the dress...and the one I was told wouldn't work (I think in my mind I am hoping that my life will becoming interesting enough that I just might need an extra fun dress...).
Want to know what I'm wearing to the reunion? I woke up the next morning, decided I didn't really feel crazy about either option, and went out to buy a full-priced, no discount dress that I loved in the first store I had gone to the night before. Some things are just worth full price I think. We'll see how I feel in a month when I'm actually there.
It's interesting though, because I started writing this blog entry because I was about to purchase my ticket and went to look at the RSVP list. As I scrolled through names, I really started having a bit of a moment. It's weird--because I love my life, my job, my tiny apartment, but I sometimes feel like seeing people you haven't seen in a while requires you to justify your existence. And I'm pretty sure that, on paper or from an outsider's view, my life is rather unimpressive. So what do I do with that? I can become self righteous or apologetic or I can pretend like I'm too good to be wrapped up in worldly possessions, but building a facade is such a waste of energy. When I start to think about it, I realize that the real evidence of a life well lived over these last 10 years isn't an impressive resume or a surprising net worth, its contentment. So I took a deep breath, realized that having strangers feel impressed with my life isn't really that important, and bought my ticket. Who knows what all of my classmates will think of what I've done with my life, but why should that really matter? I'm content most days (anyone who says they are always content is a liar...I think). And that's enough. Or at least it is at this moment. I might just have to remind myself of that later.
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