How I lost a dress, a top and my mind, all in the space of a week

I lost my favourite dress.

I know: how do you lose a DRESS, I hear you ask? That’s what my parents asked, anyway, and I tell you what I told them: if there is a way for me to do something inexplicably stupid, I will surely find it .

And I obviously did.

The green dress had been resident at my parents’ house for a week. I’d worn it and, because I am me, had spilled food down the front of it, leaving a huge, greasy mark. I tried to remove the mark, but succeeded only in making it even bigger, so I did what any self-respecting adult would do:

I took it to my mum and asked her to wash it instead.

My mum did this, and also ironed the dress, and then she placed it in a carrier bag, along with a little top I’d bought, which she’d altered for me.

And that was the last time anyone ever saw either of those items alive. Or, indeed, dead. They quite simply HAVE NOT BEEN SEEN SINCE. Which begs the question: HOW?!

I don’t remember taking the bag out of the house that night (last Saturday). No one else remembers seeing me take it. The assumption, though, is that I DID take it, because it is no longer in my parents’ house, and trust me, they’ve searched. They’re probably still searching now, actually.

But it didn’t make it to our house, either. Neither Terry or I can remember bringing it out of the car, and we’re both as sure as we can be that this is because we DIDN’T bring it out of the car. We’ve conducted fingertip searches of both the house and the car several times. Over, and over, and over again we have searched. The bag containing the clothes is nowhere to be found. It’s almost as if it DIDN’T ACTUALLY EXIST IN THE FIRST PLACE.

At the moment, the most likely scenario we’re pursuing is that it was lost on the way home that night. You see, we did not come straight home. No, we stopped at a local park to let Rubin have a quick run before bed, and the only thing we can think is that somehow when I opened the car door to get out, the bag must have fallen out of the car. This doesn’t seem all that likely, to be honest: it was a wet night, and I was wearing my new Prada peep toes (the walk wasn’t planned, by the way. I mean, even I normally wear something a little more practical to walk the dog), so I was having to look quite carefully at the ground, to make sure I didn’t step in a puddle. I can’t help thinking I was looking at the ground so intently – especially around the car, which was parked in a particularly muddy area – that I would’ve noticed something lying on it, but in the absence of any other explanation for the whereabouts of my dress, I guess this is the one we have to go with.

(Also, Terry used my phone to take some photos of Rubin and I walking, and the bag isn’t in them, so we know I wasn’t carrying it.)

This all happened last Saturday. It was a couple of days before I realised I didn’t have the dress, and when I DID realise, I assumed I’d left it at my parents’ house, so it wasn’t until Friday that I realised it was actually MIA. Terry did return to the alleged scene of the crime this weekend, but needless to say, there was nothing there, and the park warden said nothing had been handed in. So it’s a mystery. And it’s a mystery that has REALLY freaking annoyed me. I mean, this dress wasn’t an expensive one – in fact, it was one of the cheapest dresses I own(ed) – but I LOVED it. It was my favourite. And because I bought it ages ago, the shop has long since sold out of them, and so it’s effectively irreplaceable. Ditto the top. My only hope now is that one comes up on eBay, but the chances of that are slim, and so I think I’ll just have to accept that I’ve lost my favourite dress, and will never see its like again. This makes me sad.

Meanwhile, I am a woman tortured by the effort of trying to remember the events of That Night. Where did the dress go? Where is it now? SOMEONE must know something. Did it run away? Was I not a good enough owner for it? Did it quarrel with the top, and then something unspeakable happened between them? Did the top bury the evidence, and then go on the run, to escape justice? WHAT HAPPENED TO MY GREEN DRESS?! And how will I find out? Should I put up posters around town saying HAVE YOU SEEN THIS DRESS, REWARD OFFERED or should I just find a good hypnotist and see if they can unlock the key to my memory and uncover the grisly truth?

Or should I just buy another dress, instead?*

*Nothing will ever compare to it, though. Alas, poor dress, we hardly knew ye!