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For the Love of Dresses

‘Yeah… I’m a size four’ I thought. I leaned forward with my arms crossed, just as the sales assistant had instructed. I tried to remain silent and relaxed. But I could feel her tugging on the ribbons and with every cinch I felt as though the world was imploding around me. Was I going to be able to breathe after this?
“So when’s the big day?” she inquired politely.
“Well I’m not officially engaged,” I said.
“Oh… well how long have you been dating?”
“Not very long,” I couldn’t lie.
“Don’t jinx it!” my mother quipped. “It’s better not to talk about it because we’re not sure when he’s going to ask yet.” Nice save.
She made one final tug and then delicately tied the bow at the bottom. I stepped out of my room and onto the little platform covered in tacky red carpet. The mirrors seemed to be playing tricks on me. I knew I stood there a poor university student but somehow they reflected a princess. I turned to the side to get a glimpse of the back. Every bead seemed perfectly placed, the lace so refined. Turning back I caught a glimpse of my hand in the mirror. The empty space on my finger was just a reminder of my deception. At least now it was true that I was in love, just not with any man.
My mother stood in the background chatting with the other mothers. I could see she was enjoying this; perhaps a little too much. I let out a sigh as I stepped down from the platform. I grabbed my mother’s arm and pulled her into the dressing room where she proceeded to unlace the ribbon that was mercilessly holding me captive.
“Don’t worry mom,” I said, “someday we’ll get to do this for real. But for now my love affair will have to be with a dress.”
I looked at the dress on the wall one last time. It hung so lifeless and with out form. I wished I could take it with me. But unfortunately my deceit could not justify the eight hundred and eighty-eight dollars. So we left the store and tried not to look back.