Our plans to attend Rick’s daughter’s wedding went just about as expected for my life. We had to rent him a suit because his went out of style about ten years ago. All this being a bit last minute for us, we found a place downtown renting formal wear and had Rick measured. The suit arrived at the store the two days before we were to leave. Stopping by for a fitting the pants were perfect, but that last late night donut stood in the way of the button meeting the buttonhole on the jacket. Oh-oh. A pinch of panic nipped at my spine. Not sure which size to move on to we called the people supplying the suit, or the saleslady did. Rick was measured again and a debate ensued about where to go from here. I asked if they could send the next two sizes in case the one up doesn’t work, or another glazed twist comes into view. Unfortunately, this wasn’t possible I was told. Prom season in full swing all their suits are in high demand. One size would have to be picked and fingers crossed. Naturally. So, we closed our eyes, pointed a finger at one size on the page, and made a decision.
After that experience we came home and I started packing. This was to be such a quick trip you would think a pair of clean underwear and a tube of toothpaste would suffice. Since there’s a wedding and rehearsal dinner packed in the middle, it required appropriate clothes for each so took a little planning. Literally I threw together an outfit for the wedding. I found a pretty skirt and located a top that went perfectly. At another store I picked up a feminine lacy shawl. A necklace and earrings were added, a pair of shoes purchased and I was good to go. At least as good as I get. Noticing my blouse needed ironing I wiped the cobwebs off my ironing board and set it up. Laying my blouse across the board I pressed one shoulder. Immediately a dark blue stain became noticeable draped across the top of the sleeve. Really? Now there was no time for me to run about finding something else to match so I flew downstairs and applied everything from carpet stain removal to Easy Off to the stain and tossed it in the wash. “PLEASE”, I thought, “let this come out”. My ulcer was working itself up to a frenzy in my nether regions. Ach. After an hour I heard the machine click off. Closing my eyes I retrieved my blouse and prayers answered the stain had disappeared. Yea for my team.
This brought to mind my prom days. I went to three proms during high school. My own and two at other schools. Two in my junior and one in my senior year. I was majoring in boys my junior and senior year and got an A for effort both years. All this promming required only one dress as each dance was at a different school saving my mother considerable outlay. Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth girls had their shoes died to match their dresses. I know. Peau de soie, I believe, was the fabric the shoes were made of. Apparently it lent itself well to dying.
At the last of the three, my date and I went out to dinner with two other couples prior to going to the dance. By this time I was a year older, two inches taller, and probably slightly filled out from the twelve-year-old boy physique I’d been rocking the year before. The dress was a rich shade of peacock-blue. Fitted just to the waist, with a long flowing skirt, it had been snug to begin with. Add a fully loaded baked potato, a steak, a couple of yeast rolls and butter, plus dessert, and there wouldn’t have been room for a skinny gnat to take refuge inside. What? I was a teen. Feeling as though exhaling was my only option I managed to fold my body into the back of the car before I heard the sound of tearing fabric. Truthfully, that lovely blue fabric never had a prayer pitted against the slabs of cheese sauce the restaurant loaded on the once healthy broccoli they served on the side. Like lava squeezing forth from an erupting volcano my back let itself out of confinement and was laid bare for all to see. Not good. Not good at all. Dropping the two other couples at the dance we made a quick trip to his parent’s house, the closest one to us. Surveying the damage his mother took out the sewing box and in a half an hour literally sewed me into my dress. Back in the car and breathing wee breaths of air we went to the prom. A made it through the night without passing out or vomiting, which was amazing because I spent most of my time thinking I was on the brink of both. This gave me compassion for all the women going before me whose bodies were pinched, strapped, and corsetted into submission all for the sake of beauty.
I will write of the wedding when I catch a breath and pull my apron out of the drawer.
This eggy spinach salad is delicious. We ate the whole bowl between the two of us.
Spinach and Egg Salad with Sesame Seed Dressing
1 bag baby spinach
5 radishes, sliced thin
1/2 red onion, sliced thin
3 hard boiled eggs, cut in wedges
Salt and pepper to taste
2 Tbsp. toasted sesame seeds
Place all salad ingredients in salad bowl. Toss with dressing just before serving. Serves 4
Sesame Seed Dressing
1/2 cup olive oil
1 tsp. lemon infused olive oil
1/4 cup seasoned rice vinegar
1/4 tsp. sesame seed oil
1/8 tsp. red pepper flakes
Salt and pepper to taste
Whisk together ingredients. Chill for 1 hour.