Monday, April 14, 2014
I'm doing more than mere "spring cleaning" these days. I've begun a full-scale, ruthless purge.
Previous posts have seen me discuss the curios and cheap furniture items that have gone to the Vietnam Veterans of America or Out of the Closet. Now that, thankfully, I've run out of those items, and my living room has breathing room, I've turned my attention to even more annoying things cluttering up my home office and my bedroom.
When I see the number of things in my email inbox--unread, read and "to be answered," spam, etc., etc., my eyes glaze over. Seriously, the count is getting toward the 5,700 mark, and so I've begun my counter-offensive -- making one daily task to "unsubscribe" to at least ten senders, especially when I either don't know them, or "I'll get back to this one later" becomes the knee-jerk response.
Ditto my list of bookmarked websites. As my career and personal lives have wended their ways forward, and my interests have changed, I just haven't kept up with paring down the site addresses cluttering up my PC. Poor thing--no wonder it's slow. So, tonight it's click-delete time! After I've taken in the lunar eclipse, that is.
And then, there's this dress you see. Back in 2006, when I was still on the loose in the dating world, I was swept off my feet by someone. I won't go into details, because the memory of this person would only serve to stir up anger that's best left in the past.
Anyway, I was invited to a full-on gala--dinner, awards, testimonials; in short, it was to have been a "magical evening," even though that term is too often and too easily used.
After work one day, I went to Nordstrom--and I can count on one hand the number of times I've crossed that store's threshold. During a two-hour spree, I bought this Empire-style dress (I know my photos don't show it off properly)--satin bodice, chiffon-y lined skirt. Even though I was still in my size-14 days, it flattered me, and I felt like a princess for the first time since I was a young girl. A pair of black heels (my very last pair, I should add!), black stole, and slinky black hose completed the ensemble. I was gorgeous, and ready to "go to the ball." The fact that this single outfit cost me more than all the clothes--in total--that I'd ever bought in my adult life didn't trouble me at all. This was an important evening, and I wanted to be a proper lady escort.
Two days later, I got a voice mail. In a terse, 15-second message, my date simply said he wanted to take someone else. That was it. And I never heard from him again.
The dress promptly went into the closet -- way to the back. In time, I actually forgot I had it. A few months ago, I was surprised to see the original zippered bag with "Nordstrom" printed across the front, and with the shocking price tag still attached to the dress. So, out it came.
No, I wouldn't wear it. First, I'm happily a few sizes smaller now. And second, I've been with someone--my gentleman friend Chuck--who I believe truly deserves me. I won't stand for being disrespected--ever again. Now, at my age, I can love with my heart and my head.
Tomorrow, during a break, I'll take the dress to a local consignment shop. Let's see how much I can recoup, and silence the visual noise that still resonates.