Monday, September 25, 2006

Word to the wise: don't piss me off

I am entirely too sensitive.

On Saturday, I brought a bunch of formal dresses for Kevin to bring to his wife. They're going to some uber-formal wedding this weekend and she hasn't found a dress yet. I volunteered my vast dress collection. She took me up on the offer.

She's a bit bigger than me, so I selected mostly from Meg's vast formal dress collection. She thought she might be able to fit into my size if the dress didn't hug the hips too much. Because of that, I threw in a few of mine, too.

Today is Kevin's day off, but he called in to talk to our boss. I picked up the phone and the first thing he did was ask me "what is up with that flapper dress?"

His tone of voice made me want to kick him in the teeth.

"She tried on the dress and we were both laughing our asses off. It's hideous!"

Hideous on her, perhaps, but not hideous on me. And it wasn't hideous on Meg, who wore it before she filled out. Is quite cute, actually. Short and black and ruffly (yet surprisingly understated) and fun.

I pointed out that the dress was not remotely related to a flapper's dress. And that every time I wear it I get a lot of compliments.

I considered pointing out how much I paid for it. And that it was a Ralph Lauren. And that I look hot in it. I held my tongue.

He told me not to get my panties in a bunch.

My panties? So in a bunch. I am totally insulted! That dress, which I happen to rather like, is not hideous. Say that it looks shitty on your wife, who is quite blessed in the hips. Say that it wasn't for her body type. OR JUST SAY NOTHING.

I want all 15 of my dresses back. Now. Sorry, Kevin's Wife, but you're not allowed to wear anything of mine or anything of Meg's.

We only loan dresses to women with style.

So there!


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