The Dress Conundrum.

I will preface this by saying that I know this is the most inane post that I am going to make in awhile here (aside from the fact that I was going to post about how I made this cute baby red panda my desktop background because it is adorable X 100000 and it makes me squeak and it freaks the fuck out of Husband...apparently death, heights, and baby red pandas are at the very tippy top of Husband's list of things that put him into a panic?). I know this post, on a level from 1 to 10 of Important Things Happening In The World, rates a big fat 0. But oh well, I am going to post it anyway. Why? Because I have a problem. I HAVE A VERY BIG PROBLEM.

Aside from, you know, the problem that my Husband has an unexplainable aversion to extreme cuteness. Especially extreme cuteness that looks like it had its picture taken at the local Sears Portrait Studio. Whatever Husband, baby red pandas are the cutest things ever. Squeak!

So back to my problem. My conundrum, if you will. The ADAM dress? The dress?

Yeah. It doesn't fit.

I realized my mistake shortly after submitting my order to Bluefly.com. "Oh yeah!" I suddenly remembered, about six hours after sending off for the dress, "Revolve Clothing has size charts. I should look at the one for ADAM."

Dum da dee da dum, not a big deal. Right? The dress was left on Bluefly in two sizes- a size smaller than I normally wear and a size larger than I normally wear, and so with my actual size being sold out I decided to go with the smaller size and just squeeze my way into it. Who cares if I couldn't breathe in the darn thing? Sometimes we have to suffer to look beautiful. And sometimes, we have to suffer a lot. There's nothing wrong or unhealthy about my thought process here at all.

And designers anymore, man, pffft. They are all about vanity sizing, right? Ordering a dress in a size too small shouldn't be any big deal! They want the feeble consumer to feel good about themselves, because it's as if spending $300+ on a dress that's made with two big pieces of draped silk-chiffon (which goes for oh, about $18 a yard at most craft stores) wouldn't already do the trick for me. These designers man, they just want the entire experience to be so full of fluffy feel-goodness, because it's proven that a fluffy, feel-good customer spends more money than an unfluffy, angry customer.

I'm so happy that they really think about me. About us. In fact, I'm surprised they don't just obliterate the entire number on the tag and just put a big fat smiley face instead. It could be the Smiley Face System of Feel Goodness, where the smiley face just gets a little bit bigger as the sizes increase in numbers. At some point the smiley face would turn into a frown, sure, but I'm not going to jump into those shark infested waters tonight. It is brilliant and it is completely delusional, which is "Shopping For Women's Clothing" in a nutshell.

So anyway, I pulled up the size chart on Revolve, pretty sure I was going to see, "ADAM dresses fit anyone and everyone perfectly and don't worry your pretty little head". Instead I saw:

FUCK. And WHAT?! An entire size small?! Entire size? Small?! Especially around the bust?!

Seriously?!

(I then hastily clicked the "NOT USEFUL" Downturned Thumb about 100 times out of pure anger and respite, but Revolve must have caught on to me and removed my angry clickings. Darnit.)

Anyone that knows Bluefly knows that their customer service is, well, mediocre at best. They can help you up to a certain point, but I had blown right past that point with the fact that I submitted the order on a Saturday afternoon plus selected expedited shipping. I was screwed, the dress was already on its way, with no time to switch it for the bigger size.

So I figured well...hey. Maybe by some odd, freakish chance the dress would fit. I apply to the School of Thought of not ever weighing myself, so I hover in some odd bizarre land of Size I Need To Eat More Ice Cream or Size I Need To Stop Eating So Much Ice Cream You Cow. I have my reasons for not ever weighing myself, which is a weighty reason in itself and not something I feel like discussing at this current moment. Maybe in the future. Maybe.

But perhaps Revolve had it wrong, and perhaps by some small miracle the dress would fit.

Yup. And nope. Revolve was right, too right, and there is no way in hell that dress is getting zipped up all the way. I can zip it about halfway until it stubbornly stops, refusing to zip any further.

Why is this? Well, my darling readers, in this cruel world of worlds I am built backwards from most women and instead of being big-little-big (hips, waist, chest) I am little-big-little. Meaning my butt is flatter than a pancake, I have a huge ribcage that protrudes oddly from my body, and I have no boobs. Not only that, but I'm a full two sizes bigger in my middle-rib-cage-area than the rest of my body. Two sizes. Jesus!

(And while we're discussing my flawed design here I also have bunions, which I've decided I will only talk about while speaking in a Long Island accent. Oye! My bunions! Man, I really got fucked!)

So. I'm obviously not going to get any ribs removed, which means the dream of having small, dainty, and perfect ribs is completely elusive. I will die with a big ribcage. And bunions. It's a burden I will just have to sadly bear.

And so what does this mean for little old backwards me? It means good freaking luck trying to get something to fit around this big ol' ribcage of mine and still fit every else- it isn't going to happen. I've actually had Husband accidentally zip dresses into my ribcage, leaving nicks and cuts and welts that take weeks to heal.

"I can't quite...the zipper isn't going...no honey it's not your ribcage, it's the zipper...." Husband said while tugging upwards as I stood hunkered down in the ADAM dress, silently willing the stupid dress to just zip. Come on, zipppp you bastard. The zipper makes it all the way up to the beaded waistline and then stops, sticks its tongue out, and refuses to go any further. The beaded waistline certainly isn't helping anything (zippers always seem to catch around waistlines thicker in fabric), but yeah. I've tried shimmying and shaking and yanking and tugging and the dress isn't zipping up. The dress fits perfectly in all other places except for around my ribs.

So the dress stayed home from our trip. And the dress is likely going to be sent back. The pretty, gorgeous, yellow silk chiffon dress that makes me feel like a Grecian Goddess (with a big ribcage and bunions) simply does not fit. Oh well, oh well. Do I want to try it in another size? Bluefly has it in a 4, Shopbop in a 2. But how much do I really need this dress? Or rather, how much do I really want this dress? It is a stunning dress, but any other size would likely require additional tailoring in the upper bust area (not to mention needing to be hemmed up) and is it really worth all that fuss for a dress I'll wear a small handful of times, most of which would just likely be me flitting around the house while yelling, "I FEEL PRETTY! OH SO PRETTY!"

Hm. Not sure. And truthfully, I'm not even sure if a size 2 or a size 4 would make it around my ribcage. That's how small this dress is. Or that's how big I am. Or...well, something.

In the meanwhile I decided the Sunny Day Nanette Lepore dress was a dress I totally needed to wear only a small handful of times and flit around in and feel pretty. I had the satisfaction of trying it on at Neiman's while in Arizona:

And my god, it is perfection. Simple, awesome perfection. Add in a current 20% off code at Revolve (People20) and sold! Having pretty much decided (maybe) to give up on the ADAM dress and send it back, I ordered the Sunny Day dress from Revolve this morning. And I know it fits, big ribcage and all. Man, does it fit. Nanette loves me and my wacky ribcage. Cha cha cha, drool.

I am a little worried about the punchy pink color and my red hair, but I think this punchy pink color might be okay. It is more of a subdued punch color, with the Dupioni fabric lending a subtle, dull luster to it and muting its vibrancy. Maybe I could pair it with some simple, dangly, purple earrings? Turquoise earrings? Pearl and gold earrings? Something?

So. I have some thoughts, with some advice needed: Keep the pretty ADAM dress and struggle to fit into it? Visit my non-English speaking tailors and try to explain to them that the zipper on the dress hates me and I'd like it taken out? Send the ADAM dress back? Swap for a bigger size and get it tailored? Adopt a baby red panda for Petunia? Practice my Long Island accent a little more?

Sit here at 2:35 in the morning and fret over the Nanette Lepore dress being a bad color for my haircolor while eating salt and vinegar chips?

Ooh, sold.

Goodnight!