Hate the hair. Hate the dress. Love the dog. Guess which one I’m keeping?!
This hasn’t been my finest day. Tears and pity. I’ll confess, I’m struggling a bit. It’s all vanity and it’s all pointless, in terms of the bigger things in my life like my health and how to pay the mortgage —miniscule  when put on the earthquake and floods and war scale. But there are days when perspective cannot be found. Where you weep in your beer wishing things just weren’t so.
The thing is, I’ve lost nearly 12lbs since December. That’s nothing to brag about—except that it’s more weight than I’ve ever managed to get off at one time (unless you count that 6 month period when my thyroid went haywire and bumped up my resting heart-rate to 140). And while I have at least 10lbs more to go (ideally 15, but I’m a pragmatist about these things) my weight loss has S Â L Â O Â W Â E Â D to an nearly imperceptible pace. It’s not weight gain, but a half pound in 6 weeks is hardly worth counting.
In truth, I was feeling pretty good about it, despite the pace—because I knew when I started that it would probably take me 18 months to lose the 25-30 lbs I wanted (needed!) to shed. Slow and steady. Seemed like a good plan.
However, that plan did not foresee IZ’s youngest niece getting engaged. And now, the hunt is on for a suitable dress for a late summer garden wedding. You know, one that isn’t too sleazy, won’t upstage the bride (not going to happen!), and something that doesn’t leave the distant relatives wondering, “Did you see that woman in that hideous dress? What was she thinking?” Â You know, a dress that’s lovely and flattering and doesn’t draw attention in any way. Something I can feel good in, without feeling like anyone is looking my direction.
Because it’s not about me. I’m  under no delusions. However, after 21 years I know IZ’s family. And they’re a bit nutty when it comes to pictures! They like photos of every last relative in every last combination. I know, because I have a whole album full of such pictures! And it’s poor form to say, “I’m too (fill in the blank) to be in the photo.” No, instead, you haul your guaze swathed form in front of the camera and try to angle yourself next to your tall husband in such a way that you disappear into the background.
It never works. It’s hard to disappear when you’re my size.
So, this week I brought home a potential dress. From Goodwill. I paid $8.99. Â I have no choice. You know, that mortagage and health bill reality means I don’t get to go buy a lovely frock from Anthropologie.* Â Instead, I’m combing through racks of used clothes praying to the fashion gods above that there is something appropriate and in my size to be found.
I tried it on to model it and I got the patented IZ response of, “Oh, that’s amazing!” Â Of course, there’s a direct correlation between what I pay for something and how great IZ thinks it is. He lives by the “less is more” philosophy. Â And trust me, I have photographic proof of me looking like hell in an outfit that IZ declared, “AMAZING!” only hours before. He’s lovely and caring and absolutely incapable of being objective about how I look. “How could you let me go out looking like that?!!” I wail. His response? “You looked amazing!”
So, believing my husband, I had this crazy thought, “I know, I’ll take a photo of me in the dress. And I’ll post it on Evidently and see if any of my cool friends want to help with the accessorizing bit, because I’m kinda at a loss.” STUPID move.
Or brilliant, tomorrow when I’m not overwhelmed with how dumpy I still look. Right now, I’m shattered. Â I’m calling the dress, “A minor royalty goes on safari”. IZ assures me that the dress looks far more flattering than the photos suggest. But we’ve established what a fibber he is.
My son, who looked up from his computer long enough to take note, did offer an unsolicited opinion, “Mom, you look really good in that.” But then he followed it up with, “It’s very natural. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you look natural in a dress before.”
Ringing endorsements all around. The camera? Well, it doesn’t lie. And it’s screaming at me, “Take that sad sack back!”
So, I trudge on. Slowly. Looking for a dress. Pressing on with the weight loss. Trying not to become depressed by my circumstances and fact that my metabolism resembles that of a zombie. Â Today I’m a little teary eyed about that. But tomorrow, I’ll return the dress and comb through the racks again. Indefatigable.
*for the record, a dress from Anthropologie is no more likely to make me look thin, than a dress from Goodwill. But, you know, it’s a dress from Anthro. And I’m convinced if it’s an Anthro dress + a steep price tag = more prettier. (See that, poor logic + bad grammer = Wende being funny) Plus, it’s really fun to watch IZ’s head spin around, “You paid HOW much for that dress. For THAT dress?”
And here are a few focused photos of the dress and hair. Click to embiggen:
Actually, you look amazing in this dress. The only issue with it that I see is that the interfacing along the button placket isn’t doing it’s job. IFF you took a few stitches along the placket to close it up, could you slide it over your head still? Your shoulders look feminine, you look all in proportion, your coloring is set off like whoa. I think if you could tame the placket, you’d be happy.
Ooh… you’re right about the placket. Although, I just looked at the dress and it might be that the buttons are really hanging by a thread at the bust line. So, I might try securing those first and see if that makes a difference. If it doesn’t, I’ll try putting in a few stitches. In real life it actually seems to fit over my boobs (RARE!) It gets tricky for me, because I’m so darn broad shouldered, that only knits go over my head easily. And fitted things do gap because of it, too. But it’s definitely worth a try. Or maybe a few well placed hidden snaps? ~W
Wende, I hate to break it to you, but you are beautiful!! You could probably rock kukats and a bedazzled denim vest….
Holy flashback, Colleen. I went to private school as a kid and we had to wear kulots (How do you spell that word?) for PE. I couldn’t rock it in 2nd grade and I’m not attempting it now. Nice try, tho. 😀 ~W
Kulats! I don’t know what Kukats are, but I bet you’d make those look good too.
ahh, Kulats. It still looks wrong to me. 😀 ~W
i think it’s “culottes”
but what do i know…
I echo Wendy and Iz. You do look amazing in that dress. You look like you. The hair is fabulous. Wen–embrace your beauty, even though it may not be your vision for yourself. Me, I wanted my mom’s black hair, my dad’s athleticism, and green eyes from some mysterious ancestor. But I got none of that. I got short, brown, and clumsy.
I’m sure I’m my own worse critic. But, I don’t care what you say… this hair cut, MEH! 😀 (but thank you!) ~W
I like it. It’s very “you.” Fix the buttons and you’re set 🙂
Yes, because “minor royalty goes on safari” is totally my look. I mean, I even posed with my DOG. CLEARLY that should earn Kitty a title, no? ~W
Hi Wendy! I have talked with you briefly on Twitter but I just had to respond to your tweet about this dress.
Girl, you look adorable! I think you must like the dress or you would not have bought it in the first place. If you don’t want to do any alterations (I can’t sew), I suggest buying a sexy lacy bra, blingy, lovely jewelry, unbutton the top 2 buttons and smile for the camera! If it is an outdoor wedding, go back to Goodwill and get a really fun summer hat. You’ll look like Jackie O!!! 🙂
Shari, thank you for coming over from Twitter to leave a comment. You’re the best. I love the slip idea—especially as I sell vintage slips in Mirieo. Will raid my stash! Thanks!! ~W
The color is fabulous and the drape is good…but there IS something goin’ on with the plackets…a model’s trick is double-stick tape to keep them lined up and in place (no sewing!) I went to private school for 12 years where the girls had to wear dresses everyday…sometimes, I liked to iron my skirts with heavy spray starch, it seemed more elegant like linen, especially since I wore Goodwill dresses mostly.
Get a chunky necklace you love and rock on!
Ooh, a chunky necklace is a good idea. My original plan was to put up this photo and ask for styling ideas, so thank you for seeing past my “woes is me!” As for the tape, I’ve never used it. Does it leave a lot of residue on the fabric? I guess it wouldn’t matter since you can’t see it, but as a textile person I get all squeamish about such things. Have you ever used it? ~W
Yes, although I don’t remember what kind…I don’t recall a residue and tape sure beat being sewn into my school clothes, especially at P.E. time (but most of my school pictures feature me wearing a dress that had invisible thread tacks here and there to make it look just right…)
I think if you go to a beauty supply store (or call around) the clear tape used to hold toupees in place would be your best bet.
Also, all of Carly’s points were good, but I wanted to elaborate on the picture stance…it’s called a model’s tee where you put the heel of one foot at the middle of the other to make a tee…it’s a slimming stance I use often…if this doesn’t make sense I’ll try to find a picture to link to later…
I don’t like my picture taken, but I look back on the ones taken before kids and think..I didn’t look so bad…time gives you perspective so now I try to own it from the start…and a smile is your best accessory!
Thanks for the update! And no link necessary—I know the stance well. 😀 ~W
Firstly, I hate to add to financial stress but clearly you need new glasses. The funhouse lenses you have in those frames are wreaking havoc with your sense of proportion. It’s all off and making you doubt your fabulousness.
Second, the gals are right about that placket. The doublestick/flash tape will fix that in a jiff, or barring that, a tiny plastic snap sewn in between those two buttons.
Third, pin that skirt up about 6″ or whatever will give you 1/2-1″ above the knee and then try it on. If it looks as good as I think it will, hem it to that length. I think you’re too young for below the knee.
Fourth, culottes.
Fifth, if you quoted your son verbatim, you have many blessings and are an amazing mother, in addition to beautiful.
Sixth, I know that regardless of what we all say, your feelings are your feelings and even though you’re crazy, if you feel self-conscious about photos at the wedding, stand with one hip a chunk in front of the other. Instant slimming for posterity even if your posterior isn’t cooperating with your 18month schedule.
I second the 1st through sixth points! Well said!
Alas, I cannot hem this thing. I wish, because I completely agree. It has buttons that run all the way down the front and hemming it will throw the close off. :S But it hits just below my knee, so it’s not as long as the photos make it look. (I think it’s how I’m standing in that one photo.)
And I appreciate the feedback. I’ve never been happy in front of a camera, much preferring to be the photographer. But what most people don’t understand is that I was once MODEL thin. As in… model, thin. And even after struggling with my weight for so many years, I have the worst time “seeing” myself. I doubt that makes sense, unless you’ve been a size 4 and ballooned up to a 16. 😀 ~W
See, I’m NOT insane. You rock that dress and make it look marvelous. Great ideas from everyone else though. 🙂
What if you make a new belt out of a contrasting fabric?? Then it might give you the optical illusion that your waste is synched in. You’ll feel more curvy. 🙂
Beauty is from the inside out. Next time you look in the mirror see yourself for who you really are. Then you’ll see the stunningly beautiful amazing woman that your friends and husband already see and love!
I like the shape of the dress and I like it on you. Maybe it’s the color that is throwing you off? Perhaps if it is a cotton you could over-dye it a richer color? And the suggestion about a different belt?