I totally shouldn’t have ordered this dress, but I did
I swear to God, I only meant to look.
It was lunchtime. I’d just completed my 10,000 steps for the day (Yeah, still doing that. Not quite as successfully this week, because I’ve also had a lot of “sitting on my ass” to do, but I only missed my target on one day, and… why am I telling you this? You came here to read about that dress I totally shouldn’t have ordered, not about the steps I should have walked. Sorry.), and I was about to embark upon my usual Friday afternoon house blitz, when it occurred to me that looking at dresses on the internet would surely be more fun than putting on rubber gloves and scrubbing the toilet. Well, it is, isn’t it?
“Well, I’ll be buying that,” I thought, matter-of-factly, because OBVIOUSLY. I mean, if there’s one thing I can’t resist, it’s stripes. And if there’s another thing I can’t resist, it’s dresses with big, structured skirts, which stick out all by themselves, without the need of a petticoat. (If there’s a third thing I like, it’s polka dots. That has nothing to do with this post, though, I just thought I’d mention it.)
I didn’t intend to buy it rightthatverysecond, though. For one thing, I JUST ordered a bunch of stuff from Dorothy Perkins last week. And for another thing, this dress is a little bit shorter than I usually wear. I mean, it hits above the knee on the model, and that’s practically a mini dress to someone who almost exclusively wears midis. So I figured I’d save it to my top secret Pinterest board (the one I use to save things I’m actually considering buying, so no one else can see them and snatch them out from under my grasp. Yes, I do that.) and hope that, in the fullness of time, the length would prove to be a deal-breaker, and I’d decide I didn’t want it anyway.
One thing I like about Dorothy Perkins, is that if you find an item you like, you can click on your size, and the website will tell you if the item is low in stock. It’s awesome, but also terrible. “Only three left!” it will say. “Only two left!” Or, in this case, “This is the last one we have in your size, Amber, so if you don’t act now, someone else will surely buy it, and you’ll never even get the chance to find out if it’s too short. Someone is probably sitting with their finger poised over the “add to basket” button RIGHT NOW, in fact. You see this dress? This dress is slipping away from you. Say buh-bye to the pretty stripe prom dress, Amber! Accept that you will never get to wear it! Sucks to be you!”
Or words to that effect, anyway.
So, it was the ONLY one left in my size, and OK, it was shorter than I’d like, but you know, I bet that model is, like, 6″11 or something. They normally are. So it might be around knee-length on me, and if it is, it’ll be perfect with those Boden flats I’m always wearing, and I could put my hair in a bun, and I would look JUST LIKE Audrey Hepburn, only not really. OR I could just hit the back button, and I would never, ever know.
So I made a deal with myself.
“Amber,” I said, “You will do a quick Google search, and if you can find a Dorothy Perkins discount code that will work for this dress, you can buy it. Then, if it doesn’t work out, you can send it back.”
So I hit up Google, and whaddya know – CLOSER25, 25% discount, works on full-price items.
Reader, I ordered it. And I totally shouldn’t have, because it’ll probably be too short, but at least this way I’ll get to find out.
I’m now backing away from the internet, very, very slowly. If anyone needs me, I’ll be scrubbing the toilet and thinking about what I’ve done.