The colors (where are the pastels?) and the fabric (sheer is meant for the boudoir, non?) of the unglamorous garments currently gracing the sales floors are both unattractive and impractical. And why don't they make mini dresses for tall people? (It then becomes a tunic- I am sooo over it!) And what about maxi dresses? Are they only made for the pre-teen set (a.k.a boobless people) and celebrities? Argh! I think if I spend one more second obsessing over this imaginary dress I may go completely mad. But wait...why do I care so much? Why can't I accept my dress-less fate and embrace a closet full of cute shorts and flowy tops? Why can't I be satisfied with what I have? Better yet, why can't I be satisfied with the notion that this dress does not exist? I feel unsettled, almost uncomfortable, without this dress and I CANNOT LET IT GO. I feel like this dress is a marker for how resourceful/savvy/stylish/and, dare I say perfect, I can be. It is like if I find this dress then all will be right. But what exactly am I trying to make right? My wardrobe or my existence?
What do you make of this dress obsession? Am I purposely setting myself up for disaster and disappointment by setting unattainable goals? (Read: Something in my life is awry and this dress is simply a metaphor for said problem?) Or are these merely the typical musings of a (mostly reformed) shopaholic?
I mean, we all want to look our best, right?