So… uh… I returned The Cocktail Dress to Ross.
Don’t give me that look!
When I bought the dress, the back vent was stitched shut. I’d hoped that cutting those stitches would give me more wiggle room and prevent the skirt from riding up so badly. MISCALCULATION. Once I cut the threads, there was nothing to prevent the hem from migrating waaaay north. Which would be fine, if I were a panty-free starlet who enjoyed flashing the world.
Fit issues aside, part of me was never content with the blue dress. Why else would I need a whole jury of second opinions? All along, I suspected I’d be happier in a swishy, full skirt, perfect for dancing. It’s not like me to leave tags on a shiny new garment, but I had a reason. Every time I looked at the blue dress, I remembered The One That Got Away— a red, full-skirted Modcloth cocktail dress I fell for years ago and couldn’t afford.
This wasn’t the first time I ignored my gut instincts. I’ve done the same self-shushing over sleazy guys, illogical beliefs, dishonest friends… at least the stakes were low with a mere cocktail dress!
When was the last time you ignored your instincts, and why?