I Should Have Learned Something a Long Time Ago

I was reading through I Learned Something Today, checking to make sure it actually made sense - late night posts are not generally advised. Those who care about what's left of my dignity have done the advising. As I was reading the post, I was struck with the sudden realization that this was not the first time this type of experience occurred in my 22 years of life. (Like that?)

Freshman year of college, I decided to be Tinkerbell for Halloween. I am desperately opposed to pre-made costumes, so I decided to handcraft my best rendition of Tink. Two minor details slightly inhibited this process. 1. I did not have a sewing machine in my dorm room. Baby turtle, yes... sewing machine, no. 2. I had less than one day to put the whole thing together, due to my class schedule. And previous engagements at the 9-hole.

Nothing a quick trip to the garment district couldn't solve. I grabbed the greenest tulle and organza they had to offer, snipped off some elastic and ran back to the Radisson to sew myself to Neverland. The skirt was simple, and a corset proved an easy solution for a top. I covered most of the white corset in green fabric, leaving the back open for my friend to cinch up and then put the final touches on its fine fabric coating. Foreshadowing: She ties really gnarly knots and sews super miniature stitches.

The evening was a rollicking good time. Eventually, I bid my friends adieu and took the elevator to my room, ready to throw on some PJ's and crash. Right. So. Some articles of clothing can be twisted around on your body, enabling you to unfasten the back of them. A corset that has been tied to the point of inhibiting your normal breathing patterns can not be twisted in any direction. Urgle. I gave it my best effort, exhausting myself and accomplishing nothing. Finally, I took a deep breath, walked to the end of the hall and knocked on a guy friend's door, praying he would be awake/home/not with some chick. He was/was/wasn't. He helped to extricate me from my corset captor. It was awkward. And embarrassing. I resolved to be smarter in the future.
(Sidenote: It was a super-cute costume. Worth it.)

Speaking of being smarter in the future... I purchased this black cocktail dress from BCBG one December, thinking it was the perfect staple to get me through a few holiday parties. The zipper was a bit troublesome at the store, but when aren't they? I wore it to one festive shindig, after which the zipper apparently decided o get super janky and refuse to work ever again. Shocking. I didn't find this out until a couple hours before its next planned appearance. Too late to grab a zipper from Michael's or to take it to a seamstress. Hm. Wear something else? Nope. Nothing else will work. I hate everything in my closet, this is the only thing I could possibly even consider wearing tonight, anything else would make me want to die and not even go to the party at all because what's the point if I'm going to look like sh*t? Right. Frantic search through sewing box/craft closet. Ta da! Hook and eye closures. Done and done. I'll just sew these suckers on, hook myself up, and be ready to frolic.

Step 1: Check. Easy-peas-y. Step 2: F. This is awkward. Step 3 may be delayed.

Have you ever tried fastening hook and eye closures up your back? Let me also add in that this dress has a corset built into the top of it and is designed to fit perfectly (ie: No wiggle room. None. Which can be difficult for my ADD. Also difficult for the task that was on hand. (And yes, I have a thing for corseted tops. In an "I secretly think I can be Scarlett O'Hara" kind of way, not an "I like to shop on Hollywood Blvd., and check out these lucite platforms" kind of way.)

The first few aren't bad. They just take a little manipulation. The next 15 or so prove to be impossible. The feeling of trying to fasten these hook & eyes blindly was similar to the feeling of attempting to cut off the end of a hair ribbon in a mirror. Try it. You will feel neither smart nor coordinated.

At this time, I was living alone, in a guest house. The family in the main house was finishing up dinner. Parents. Two small children. And me, sheepishly knocking at the door, half-dressed. Classy.

Luckily, unhooking myself proved to a simpler feat. Silver lining? Loud sigh.

Smarter. Future. Yeah.