Wednesday, May 22, 2019

Mother of the Groom Seeks Shopping Therapist

Help me! Do it quick as I am running out of time and endurance. My shopping tolerance meter is dropping as fast as my blood pressure is rising trying to find a dress for my son's wedding. Yes, I am finally Mother of the groom. And thankfully before they would have to wheel me down the aisle or bring me in a nice vase.  Is there appropriate clothing for this role? Dressy but not too dressy so as not to upstage the bride? To me dressing up is high heels with jeans, so I am feeling pressured and also doomed.  My future daughter-in-law sent me a Pinterest board. Is that a party game about the British playwright?  If not, I am confused with nothing to wear.

I have called in Emily and Karen,the big shopping guns on respective coasts to give me the full frontal fashion outlook.  Sadly these two specialists feel the Spring styles are a throw back to the days of "Little House on the Prairie." Blousey, flowery, and gingham are not a good look for anyone unless you actually have a little house on the prairie.  I felt sweaty and noticed a very unattractive rash spreading across my nose as my coping skills had hit the wall.  I had tried to venture forth alone into the vast wasteland of Bloomingdales but briefly lost consciousness when a flowered dress got stuck pulling it over my head.  

Karen and I searched all the on-line sites but zippo that wouldn't make me look like a giant Geranium. With the days drawing closer and my nerves jangled, I stopped in a neighborhood bar for the sustenance wine provides. At that moment the gods of shopping magically appeared and smiled upon my sorry ass.  Next door to the bar was a boutique that seemed to call out to me..."Gail come in asap and bring your high limit VISA card."  As if in a trance I crossed the threshold and sales person Vanessa, like Glenda the Good Witch, listened to my tale of dress desperation  (and also told me what to put on my rash), but more importantly made me try on a dress.  I was resistant remembering what happened at Bloomingdales but she was enthusiastic and looked strong.  Voila perfection!  I found it, no more searching, crying, sweating , and mixing wine with Valium.
The Mother of the Groom dress was mine.