The "It" Dress
By Mayra, age 17, California
Sweet Designs Featured Writer
"I walked into the hall wearing my royal blue dress, black pumps, and shimmery lip gloss, and realized that the girl by our table was wearing my dress."
My heart pounded in excitement, the organs in my body seemed to press against each other in both joy and happiness. I had been invited by my boyfriend to attend my ex-high school's Homecoming Dance. Without any uncertainty, I accepted his invitation and hoped only to have the best time of my life. Yes, the dance came and I had my fun, but I also met my other half, and by that I do not mean the love of my life, but rather my twin!
A few weeks before my "expected tragedy" my boyfriend and I had decided to go shopping together for our clothes. We thought it would be a great idea, sort of like killing two birds with a single shot! Am I making any sense here?
Anyway, we kind of brainstormed together on the places we would shop, but that didn't quite work out. It was as if one were pairing up a couple of chimpanzees - no beginning, no ending point. In the end we decided to go to a nearby local spot just a few minutes from Los Angeles. When the idea of shopping at this place came up, I confess, I was a little hesitant. I knew most girls would end up buying their dress there, and of course that would only increase the chances of ending up at the dance with a girl wearing the exact same dress as me. Of course, I didn't listen to my first instinct ... and I ended up buying the dress at this place.
I know, it wasn't very smart of me to go along with the idea, but heck, what were the chances? I mean, I'd never had a problem like this before. What were the odds? Good question, Mayra!
Okay, getting back to the story. The day of the dance I headed to my boyfriend's house in Los Angeles. My plan was to get ready there, then make our way to the dance which was located a few miles away from LAX, Los Angeles' main airport. The dance was going to start at 7:00 PM, and I began to get ready at 6:00. I do not know what I was thinking at the time, but the clock was ticking, and I hadn't even done my hair. I pretty much wanted to kill myself at this point. I'd pictured myself going to this dance with straight hair, but for some reason ended up going curly. Aside from the hair problem, I had forgotten some of my makeup at my house, which was 38 miles away from where I was. Could things get any worse?
The answer is no, but only for the time being. After several minutes of intensive panicking and millions of Omg's, I was done and ready to go. Oscar and I walked out of the house and hopped into the car, hoping to be very punctual. This wasn't a very good idea because we ended up being the first people to arrive. But I guess it was sort of an advantage since we ended up choosing the table we wanted. Everything was great - the hall was decorated in our school colors, the banquet was set up, the aroma of the food alone filled me up inside, and the room had a touch of elegance.
As Oscar and I sat there waiting for the others to arrive, I stood up to go to the ladies room. I strolled down the hall and turned left towards the restroom, and prayed that I didn't find anyone with my dress. After applying several coats of lip gloss, I walked out, and as I entered I realized something - the girl by our table was wearing my dress.
The organs in my body no longer pressed against each other in happiness. Instead I felt like my stomach, my organs, and everything else in there was about to come out of my mouth and splash the glossy floor. I felt sick. I felt angry. And gosh, if I could, I would have pulled the girl out the door by her hair, yelling, "Oh no, you didn't!"
Unfortunately, I am not the aggressive drama queen who would have the nerve to do that, but at that instant I just wanted to hide - hide just like in the days when I found myself scared of the thunder during a stormy night. And just my luck, I was standing in the middle of the dance floor and before the eyes of everyone. I rapidly pretended like nothing was wrong. Besides, my twin didn't even see me, at least not yet.
To make things worse, the girl sat near our table. Ughhhhh!! I wanted to yell, to cry, to hit the wall, and make things right. I wanted to wave a magic wand, get myself a new dress, and make the girl disappear. Right away my boyfriend knew something was wrong, and right away I let it all out. Of course, guys don't understand situations like this, and of course he tried to comfort me. For a moment I thought the whole world would notice, but then I looked over my shoulder and noticed that her dress was brown and mine was royal blue, so you couldn't make out the dress' style even if you were up close. Yeah, what a relief, right? Not really.
Just when for like the millionth time I thought things would be okay, the girl looked at me as I was dancing on the dance floor. Her eyes locked onto mine and they did not exactly express love - let's make that clear. I kept looking back at her to let her know that I wasn't ashamed or even embarrassed. Wearing my confidence was what made me look better than her. It was an accessory she didn't have.*
When the night gradually ended and all the guests had left the building I couldn't help but smile. I couldn't believe I had survived every girl's nightmare, a nightmare I had turned into an incredible night.
* Check out my article about how confidence can make you 'soo hott' in the Feb 2008 issue.