It’s not even summer yet, but the temperatures in Toronto have already soared above average. With that, the length of my dresses and skirts have shortened to a point where “mini” would be an apt description. Nevertheless, when I go out and don’t want to shave my legs (that’s like, almost every time), a longer dress may be more sensible, so I went to Yorkdale Mall last Thursday to find something that I can afford. Luckily, most dresses at H&M are within my budget.
A nice lady showed me to my dressing room, but found some shirts already hanging inside. Not sure what that meant, she quickly took them away and closed the curtain behind me. As soon as I undressed down to my bra and panties, another lady—presumably whose clothes were hanging inside the dressing room earlier, and who had somehow disappeared while the staff took me to that room—pulled open my curtain, asking “what happened to my clothes?” I hurriedly covered myself, and told her that the staff took them away. The lady muttered something about the terrible service and left. With my heart still racing, I tried on the new dress.
I looked good in a size 12. (Let’s not have any illusions that I am petit, okay?)
After I had paid for the dress, I decided to change into it just because I thought I looked better in it than the dress that I was already wearing. Walking back towards the subway station, a gust of wind blew the front of my dress wide open. That was when I realized that the dress has a rather high slit. On every step that I take, I show off my (usually) unshaven legs, and on windy days, my Spanx in its full glory for all to see.
Okay, so this dress is not what I had originally expected. But I think I’ll keep it anyway, because, hey, I look good in size 12.
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