Vanity Fair

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On the front end of telling this story: there will be no pictures of me. I’m just sayin’. The reason why will become apparent by the end of my tale.

And really, this is probably one of those “you had to be there” stories.

But I have been popping in to various stores, trying to find a formal dress for the Emmies. Did you like the way I casually mentioned that one?

My dear husband, the Big Bison, was nominated for a Daytime Emmy award, for a song he wrote that was used in an ad for the Today Show, called “There’s More Today”. Getting nominated for an Emmy doesn’t happen every day. And we’re pretty sure he hasn’t won, because his main competition is Kermit the Frog singing, “I Still Believe in Santa Claus”. How anyone could hope to win over Kermie and Santa is practically sacrilegious, so, we’re not holding our breath.

But, this Saturday is our 22nd wedding anniversary, and wow – how often do you get nominated for an Emmy? So, we’re going to LA at the end of the month for the Bison and Sooze’s Excellent Emmy Adventure, and we’re pretty excited about it.

And even though his award is NOT given out during the Sunday night televised portion (for which balcony tickets cost $500.00 each) but rather during the Saturday night too boring for TV portion, (called the Schlemmy’s by Kathy Griffin) we’re STILL excited about it! So, since it’s a black tie event, a dress must be procured, right?

So, yesterday, I took my dear daughter who is 11 years old shopping with me, and we went into David’s Bridal.

And may I say, the lighting in there just stinks.

But, anyway…

I had tried on about 6 dresses, and let me tell you: there is a reason that most dresses end up on the Clearance rack. Know what I mean???

I am normally a bit of a clothes horse: I can wear lots of styles, or at least, I used to think I could wear lots of styles…I am being disabused of that notion by the clearance rack, however. Bad styles, bad colors…

There was this one dress, that looked a little sleazy, but it was my favorite shade of fuschia, and I have learned that you have to be a bit of a risk taker when it comes to clearance racks, and sometimes you find the diamond amongst the rhinestones. So, with my dd waiting outside the changing room, near all the mirrors, I endeavored to try on the fuschia number.

I have chosen the word “endeavor” with some care, because this was no easy feat. There was no zipper. There was elastic and spandex involved. All the wriggling and shimmying I was doing caused me to break a sweat. Which made it even harder to get into. And I began to be reminded of sausage: as in, I was the meat and the dress was the casing. But it was such a becoming color! My very best color! And my dear daughter out in the waiting room had been pleading for me to try it on for the last 5 dresses.

Finally, I got it over my head, shifted and shoved various portions of me around within the tube, and slowly and cautiously opened the changing room door. I had no mirror within MY cubicle of a dressing room (Which store designer made THAT decision???) and there was (I am not making this up) a small multitude who had gathered outside my changing room door. Some family was fitting two of their teenage daughters in bridesmaid dresses, and they were ALL out there – the mother, the bride, the sisters, the sister’s friends, the nieces, the nephews, and several toddler boys, making airplane and truck noises, playing tag and crack the whip.

Things had gotten a little chaotic.

So, here I am, sheathed in a fuschia colored body condom, (with a big rhinestone studded Pilgrim buckle at the waist – like any self-respecting Pilgrim is gonna wear rhinestones OR fuschia) mincing along like Morticia on her way to dance the tango with Gomez. I was stuffed into that dress, and on display for the very LARGE family to ogle.

My dear daughter, who is very sweet, and very tactful, said, “Ooooh, Mom, that’s a beautiful color! But, um, I don’t think so. It’s just not….right. “

So, I minced à la Morticia past the Mongol hordes, back to my dressing room, excusing myself as I crowded past and between them, and closed the door, attempting to heave a sigh of relief. If only I could have breathed, I would have, too.

And then, I began to extract myself from the casing/body condom.

I made a little headway, and the sweat broke out again, as it began to occur to me that there was NO. WAY. IN. HECK. I was ever gonna get out of that dress. I simply could not extract a shoulder, nor an arm. Initially, I considered panic. But then, I got tickled at the absolute absurdity of the situation. And I started to laugh. And laugh. It seemed a better choice than panic. All I could think was that I HAD to have a pair of scissors to cut the thing off of me, NOW!!! But there was no way I was willing to pay money destroying the afflicting pink imprisonment device.

So, once again, I cracked the dressing room door, and called my daughter’s name, and thankfully, she heard me over the din of the two little boys who were by this time re-enacting the bombing of Baghdad.

I was not wearing, um, a brassière, since the dress was a strapless number, and I worried about asking her for help, remembering the oft-neglected Bible story of Noah and his sons seeing their father nekkid, and thinking that perhaps if she saw me she might be scarred for life, and require years of therapy. But kids: I was DESPERATE. So, covering myself as best I could, I apologized for dragging her in there, and begged for her assistance.

She helped me out with just a mild tug or two over my head, and out I popped, freed from my pink prison. She carefully and discreetly slipped out of the dressing room, while I got dressed. And as I was hanging the dress back up, I noticed the size on the label of the dress: SMALL. I can assure you, I am NOT a small.

Later, my dear daughter reassured me that she had seen nothing, and was NOT scarred for life, and we laughed our way out of the store.

The things we do for vanity….


  1. I love that story, you are the bestest story tell and that’s a “dress trying on story” for the record books. Here’s to hoping you find the perfect dress soon!

  2. Susan.. this made me LOL… I’ve been there, the panic of not being able to get something off.

    Love the new look of the blog!

  3. First of all, much congrats to the Bison for being nominated!!! WOW!!!!

    Second of all, even more congrats for you, squeezing into a small suasage casing and having the guts to call your dd in to help you out.

    May the rest of your shopping be sausage-casing free!

  4. Oh that story made me laugh – carefully ’cause I didn’t want to explain to all the teens across the hall exactly WHAT I was giggling at 🙂

    Hope you find something wonderful to wear at you and your sweetie’s do!

  5. The visual image you’ve given me of a ‘fuschia body condom’ will give me HOURS and quite possibly DAYS of secret giggles and smiles. 🙂

    WHERE is your girlfriend POSSE at to help with this endeavor??? You. must. have. girlfriends. to. shop. with. for. the. EMMY’S.

    You go girl!!! Just don’t go alone.

    And PLEASE reassure me you won’t be hiding CROCS under that glamour gown. 🙂

  6. Stephanie says

    Why not just wear that little number you’re wearing on the cover of Vanity Fair? 😉

    I will be chuckling about your description all day. I too have suffered dressing room panic, wondering how on earth I was going to get out of a garment I had somehow packed myself into. Grease my body up with a tube of hand lotion, maybe? Glad your dd was there to come to your rescue!

  7. LOL, Susan! What a GREAT story, and one you and your daughter can remember and laugh about together for years! You are the BEST storyteller! I’m so excited for you and the Big Bison and your Emmy Adventure! Can’t wait to hear about it when you get back.

  8. Oh, Susan – that is too good! Reminds me of trying to get out of those bathing suits (or any other piece of clothing for that matter) that are supposed to make you look 10 pounds thinner. . .

  9. Oh so funny! Have fun at the Emmys and tell the BB that I hope he wins over Kermie and Santa.

  10. Oh my word! Just scoped out your blog for the first time. (I “met” you on the Sonlight Forums. I mostly lurk.) My daughter now thinks I’ve completely lost it because I’m laughing so hard I’m crying! You, my dear, are a gifted writer.

    I, too, have done my share of dress shopping. And, like you, I had to ask my daughter for help on the last adventure. Poor thing.

    Thanks for bringing belly laughs to my day!

  11. Hey Susan! There is an actual button to click for sharing posts at the linky party. I don’t know if you noticed, but there is a lot of little square pictures and links right under the last sentence of my post. That is where everyone is linking up. Right below their posts, is a blue button that says, “Add your link”, click that and it will prompt you through the rest. I can do it for you, but then you don’t have the option to edit your link or pick a title. And the link that you left in the comment section is just fine, but I think this post will get noticed more if it’s actually posted in the “party”.

    Okay! Now I’m off to read your post.

  12. LOLOL!! Very funny story.

    I found you from the “No Rules Linky Party” over at “Wit Behind the Ears.”

  13. Yay! You got it to work. (The link… not the dress… boo hiss.)

    I remember reading this post before, that or I went to the Emmy’s with my songwriting husband wearing a purple condom in a dream once. Did you share this on the SL forums, maybe? Anyway, it’s hilarious, and no wonder I remember it.

  14. You had me at ‘fuschia colored body condom’. Great story!

  15. I love this story all over again.

  16. Wonderful, fun story!

    Came by from the linky on Kelley’s and Anna’s pages. “Finding the Funny.” Cheers!

    Ninja Mom

  17. found you from anna’s page and i’m highly entertained. there’s a reason for those swanky dress shops they feature on tv. the others just suck. i don’t understand why people have to bring hordes of people when they buy dresses. i actually prefer to bring no one but after your dilemma almost not getting out of the dress. i suppose i should always bring at least one person. i once made a dress and got so stuck my arms were pinned over my head and i had to get my mother to help. there was no elastic or spandex involved and it took a lot of tugging from both of us!

  18. Haha!!! I started laughing out loud when I pictured you poking your head out the door to talk to your daughter. LOVED your analogues! Loved that you said the boys were making noises that made it sound like Baghdad explosions. Ha! It was all so awesome. So, so glad you joined the “Finding the Funny” link-up!

  19. This post totally made my day. Too funny! I can’t wait to read the rest of your Emmy Adventure – going to check it out now.

    Thanks for linking up to Finding the Funny!

  20. Found you at SITS and so glad I did! Loved this story – so funny and we’ve ALL been there! 🙂

  21. What a riot! We’ve all been there in the dressing room when things go horribly wrong! You captured the panic so well! Happy SITS day!

  22. A good story is in the details and yours are hilarious! So funny on so many levels. And so relatable – I’ve been there. only I didn’t think to laugh – it would have helped. Sounds like your daughter is a dear too! And the Emmy? Did he win? In any event – congrats to him for the nomination.

  23. Ahahaha, I have had many a stuck-in-dress scare! Love your description of the dance one has to do to extricate oneself!

  24. I love it! Randomly, also, I love that your comment box asks “whatcha think?” Regardless, I have a HUGE fear of getting stuck in clothes in a dressing room (flashbacks to shopping at the UNITS stores when I was a child). And hey, who wouldn’t want to wear a magenta condom to the emmy’s? 🙂 Happy SITS day!

  25. What a great story to have recorded. Your daughter will love having that story forever. Happy SITS day!

  26. I think you would look great in a bandage dress. You have the figure for it. Just next time try a medium!

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