Me (from bedroom): Oh, GOD.
Dad (from living room): What's wrong?
Me (wandering out to living room): Good grief.
Dad (seeing me in my new choir dress): *snort* Do you have a pointed hat to wear with it?
Me (giving Dad the finger): Ha. Ha. Ha. Actually, I feel less witch and more "Anne of Green Gables in mourning." Look at the sleeves on this thing!
Dad: It's actually not that bad. You look very nice.
Me: Why can't I wear pants? You know what? If I were in charge of the world, the first thing I would do would be to ban choir dresses. Let the women wear pants and a nice black blouse.
On a scale of one to polyester body bag, this dress ranks as less horrid than the body bags but is still pretty high on the "Oh, horrors!" scale. It has puffed sleeves! Okay, maybe they're not quite as puffy as the ones that Anne of Green Gables lusted after, but they have a definite beefiness to them that is ridiculous.
|Puffed sleeves! Somehow, I don't share Anne's enthusiasm for them.|
However, the neckline doesn't go up to my chin and it's not double-layer polyester (whoever thought TWO layers of the stuff had to be better than one a) has never stood under hot lights in a polyester dress trying to sing and b) needs to be tortured by being made to sing under hot lights in a polyester dress). Also, all the ladies last night were wearing their own necklaces so I can get away with wearing what I like--no more $4 pearls!
P.S. The notable absence of Mom from this conversation is due to the fact that she and three friends flew to Houston yesterday to attend the International Quilt Show--the largest one in the world. They'll be gone all week.