I was studying my reflection in the large mirror, as I stood at the hallway of my apartment. I wore a light-brown pant suit, which I had chosen from the wardrobe. The small yellow flowers on the legs matched the bolder ones on the jacket. I was striving for a perky look.
I thought the outfit flattering, attractive and the elastic waistband comfortable.
I had 'yo-yo'd my way through life, gaining and losing the same ten to fifteen pounds countless times. As long as I didn’t gain more than ten pounds, the suit would continue to fit.
But during recent months, I had lost more than my usual ten pounds, yet the result in the mirror surprised me. The pants still looked good on me, but the jacket hung like it was on a clothes hanger.
The blouse always offered that seductive neckline which could be worn with a hint of drama, sort of off the shoulder. But the blouse was now so big, that its neckline drooped forlornly, exposing a generous view of my twin mounds.
My selection wasn't a terrible choice, but it wasn't what I really had in mind. I needed to find a perfect dress before this afternoon because I had an important power meeting at five o'clock.
Patience wearing thin, I shed the suit and kicked it onto the heap of clothes on the floor that had grown from my unsuccessful attempts. I had been at it for over two hours, and still couldn't find something perfect to wear. I knew the other women at the important meeting would be dressed to the hilt, and none of my outfits would come close to the chickness of their attire.
I examined my worthless possibilities once again. Some of them fitted me, even though I had lost so much weight, but they were much too cozy and blah looking. I wanted something a little bit more sophisticated. I wanted something more zippy elegant than those Plain Jane's laying in the heap.
Stepping over the pile on the floor, I pulled my old dress over my head, and left the apartment heading for the Pear-Shaped Shop.
It was one of my favorite stores, selling designer names that come with very cheap price tags. I liked visiting this shop. It was situated next to the Rockefeller Centre. The shop's assistant, Irena, a very nice middle aged lady was always delighted to see me when I visited their shop.
I was one of their favourite customers. Once, Irena even introduced me to a young fashion designer, Kevin, who was delivering his new line to the store himself. I would run into him often at the shop, and he always asked me to model for him, because he liked my Rubenesque figure, and thought it would be a great challenge to make me a suitably nice dress.
I never had the time to go and visit his business, but one day, while we were both at the shop, Kevin took my measurements, and told me that he would make something special for me. I thought he was just kidding, and promptly forgot his promise.
When I entered the shop, Irena greeted me kindly, as usual. After we exchanged some pleasant words in a few minutes later, she brought me a selection she thought would suit my curvy shape. I took them and obediently tried all of them on, but none of them really did much for me. As I tried to explain this tactfully to Irena, the bell over the door tinkled and the door opened and Kevin entered with a huge heap of clothes cradled in his arms. He turned to me after he unloaded the dresses onto the counter.
"I brought something for you," he said with a wide smile, and handed me a black dress.
As I held it, I wasn't too enthusiastic. Nonetheless, I went to the changing room, and as soon as I put it on, I fell in love with it, despite it being rather too big for me. To tell the truth, it was really big, but I liked the feel of the material. And when I bunched the cloth in order to narrow it in at the back, I thought it looked really nice, well, as nice as I could tell without a mirror in the changing room. The skirt part of the dress was tailored in such a way that it gave that make believe flat look, with a flattering silhouette. And I knew if I put on black, knee-high, high-heeled boots, that dress would look very charming on me.
The moment I stepped out of the changing room, Kevin and the shop assistant started to laugh, because the oversized dress looked so funny on me. It had been several months since I had given my measurements to Kevin and as I mentioned earlier, I had shed a lot of pounds since then. Looking at myself in the mirror, I started to laugh, too, and thanked Kevin:
“Anyway... Thanks... You are too kind, Kevin. I'm so sorry I didn't call you to tell you that I lost quite a few pounds. But to tell the truth, it was hard to believe you’d really keep your promise, and made a special dress for a fat lady.”
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I was studying my reflection in the large mirror, as I stood at the hallway of my apartment. I wore a light-brown pant suit, which I had chosen from the wardrobe. The small yellow flowers on the legs matched the bolder ones on the jacket. I was striving for a perky look.
