A quick shower later, we braved the after-work crush in the subway and made our way to the mall closest to our place. Bypassing the food court and the designer shops, our sneakers squeaked against the polished white tiles.
Skillfully dodging our hurried fellow city dwellers, Tiana pulled me into a smaller, quiet boutique advertising a sale.
“There.” She pointed at a dress on display in the corner of the shop. I had no idea how she spotted these things from outside. She was a master shopper. “You have to get that one.”
“You want me,” I jabbed my index finger at my chest, my eyes widening, “to wear that?”
Maybe she wasn’t so masterful after all. “You do realize the flotation devices on my chest are attached, right? I can’t wiggle into that and leave my boobs at home for the night.”
“Really?” She clasped her hands over her mouth in mock surprise. “I never realized. I’m ever so sorry. Are you sure you can’t even let some air out of them?”
Dropping her hands and the act, she laughed and tugged me over to the dressing room. “I know they’re attached. That’s the point. In that dress, they’re going to be front and center.”
“Try front and everywhere,” I told her, turning a skeptical eye to the scrap of black material masquerading as a dress. “It would look great on you.”
She sighed, walking over to run the lacy hem of the dress between her fingers. “It would, but it’s not my birthday. And it’s going to look better on you. I don’t have the curves to back it up. This dress deserves your curves.”
A sales assistant appeared at her side, apparently having overheard what she said. The girl was dressed casually in a cashmere sweater, but she managed to look elegant at the same time with her hair pulled back into a twist.
She put her finger to her chin and looked from the dress to me and back again, then started nodding. “You would fill this out beautifully.”
My eyes wanted to roll so badly. I barely managed to suppress the urge. “You two need to learn that saying things like that could be hurtful to curvy girls who are a bit more self-conscious about it.”
As for me, my thirty post-college pounds didn’t gain themselves, and I knew it. I took full responsibility for the extra weight. I was a stress eater. And with everything I’d been through since college, I was pretty much always stressed.
I wasn’t altogether uncomfortable with it or about it, but I wouldn’t have minded losing just a few of those pounds. Hence, the gym joining. Now if only joining and spending time there would make the fat melt off, that would’ve been great.
In the meantime, I was settling for taking the advice of all those crappy “love yourself the way you are” messages and at least trying to be healthy—Tiana’s chocolate lava cake excluded.
I rifled through the clothes, finding the scrappy dress in my size and plucking it off. “I’ll give it a try, but I’m telling you the girls will not behave in it.”
Tiana clapped happily five minutes later when I emerged from the dressing room. “The girls are totally behaving in it.”
She circled me like I was a show pony on display. Deciding to play into it, I struck a pose with my hand on my hip and jutted it out. She laughed. “It’s perfect.”
The sales assistant, who wasn’t wearing one of those handy name tags—no doubt it was too tacky for her—joined in on the scrutiny. “Gorgeous. Very sexy.”
I looked down, narrowing my eyes.
Where they apparently saw perfect and gorgeous and sexy, I saw pale skin bulging out of the clingy black material and bumps where there should never be bumps. The dress itself had all those qualities they mentioned, but me in it? Dressing room mirrors didn’t lie, unfortunately. And I didn’t see any of those things when I looked at myself in this dress.
It was scooped in the front and dipped into my ample cleavage—not very bra friendly. In the back, the dress hung so low I wasn’t sure if moving incorrectly would show off my crack.
A few helpful straps would help me conceal a bra to tame the girls, but there was nothing to be done about my wide ass or the thunder thighs the dress only covered a few inches of. “I think you both need to get your eyes checked.”
Tiana pulled down on her charcoaled lower lid. “I wear contacts, remember? My vision’s perfect with these babies, just like that dress.”
“Same here.” The sales assistant smiled kindly, her eyes flicking between my stubborn expression and Tiana’s. “I think I’m going to give you ladies a moment. I’ll be at the register if you need anything.”
She disappeared behind displays of clothes and a second later, cranked up a radio somewhere. Tiana and I went a few rounds, which ended with me caving when she told me that the club we were going to was bound to be dark and any flaws I thought I had would be completely hidden.
“You deserve to feel sexy on your birthday, and that dress is smoking,” she said. We argued as we approached the register to pay, the dress hanging over my arm.
We were interrupted by the news coming over the radio when we got to the checkout counter. “Exciting news, sports fans. Businessman Jance Williams is in the process of acquiring the New York Yankees. The billionaire announced the purchase of the team in a press conference this morning. Yankees Manager, Ted Eriksson, has confirmed the sale. What do you think about this news? Phone lines are open right after this.”
“That man owns everything.” I placed the dress carefully on the counter, digging around in my purse for my wallet. Fingers crossed my credit card lets me buy the dress.
Mercifully, plastic was patient. I should be able to get away with one elaborate purchase this month.