Z has nothing to wear

We are going to a Party tomorrow night. The Sage is required to wear his dinner jacket. I started mentioning this gently some while back, and became slightly more insistent a week ago as, I pointed out, there was still time to send it to the cleaners/darn the moth holes/buy a new one (this last is not to be taken seriously). Much to my surprise, he sprung to his feet and said “I will go and check on it NOW, as you have kindly reminded me.” He returned a couple of minutes later, looking highly smug, saying that it is still in its dry cleaner wrapper, he having sent it after the last wearing.

I was vastly impressed. I should also like to point out that, when I married him, the Sage (who was not yet so named as he had not earned the title) believed that it was up to a mother or a wife to deal with all matters of clothing. For a few years I did, indeed, buy shirts and socks and underwear and send clothes to the cleaners. But then I realised that, whilst it may be up to the mother of a small boy to do these things, a Man can do it on his own account. And I didn’t want to be the mother to my husband, for we have no Oedipusish leanings round here. It took quite some time for him to adjust, during which he went round with holes in his socks and only three working shirts, but we got there.

So, the Sage is sorted. Isn’t it easy for a man? He will put on his dinner suit and a smart white shirt and swear at his bow tie for a bit and he will look wonderful and suitable, and I don’t know what to wear at all. I don’t know where to pitch it. And I haven’t bought anything dressy for evenings for years and years. It is a party in our friends’ house to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary. They are considerable landowners but wear their wealth lightly and understatedly. They have a beautiful house but not a smart one. They give great parties but not, usually, very formal ones. She is quite an informal dresser normally, but their parties do not normally mention DJs, so I think they must be upping the stakes someone for the momentousness of the occasion.

I was browsing through my wardrobe the other day, amongst clothes I haven’t worn for ages, and I came across a very nice black tailored short-sleeved top – a little jacket, but not the sort you wear anything underneath. I was highly pleased and put it on. I could not do up the buttons! It is not a matter of weight gain, it is, um, Development. That is, of course, another matter. I have a cleavage now, which I used hardly to have and one has to wear different clothes. More fitting and lower cut, which sounds as though it Should Not Be, but loose clothes make you look as if you are actually that big all the way down and around, and high necks make you look all puffed out. It is not, I hasten to add, that I am exactly busty. It is all, furthermore, home grown. But why? It all started when I took up the clarinet, all that good breathing and chest muscle development. But it must have carried on since then, because this little black top is not that old – five years perhaps? Which, in my terms, is practically Brand New (I’m not big on clothes shopping).

There’s nothing for it. I’m going to have to brave the cold of my bedroom (we like a warm bed and a cold room and don’t heat the bedroom) and check out the wardrobe.

16 comments on “Z has nothing to wear

  1. The Boy

    IT is sometimes easier being a man. I have a local “gentlmens outfitter” whom I visit once a year. One of the salesmen remembers me, remembers my sizes (and resized magically every year without fail by sight alone), and half an hour later I walk out sorted for another year. LL is very jelous…

  2. Z

    Yeah, and I bet you look great. We poor women try so hard and risk so much. And then, even if the clothes all pull together, there’s the hair, the shoes, the makeup.

  3. PI

    Z: it is a truth universally acknowledged that clothes hanging in the wardrobe for any length of time shrink. Fact!
    I so wish I could pop over and help you decide. Putting things together is a favourite occupation of mine. Ah well I’m sure you’ll look smashing.
    I have to check MTL’s apparel for peace of mind.

  4. Z

    Dandelion, I’m not sure if it is a measure of my despair, or great faith in you and the deity, that I find that a most helpful and practical offer.

    Pi, you are right. And thank you for your confidence.

    It is much better for my peace of mind that I do not notice what oddments the Sage is wearing. He is a dreadful scruff, which is a pity as he can scrub up really nice. People gaze at him, wondering if he’s a tramp or an eccentric millionaire.

  5. Z

    If I were 8 inches taller (and the same weight) I would wear a man’s DJ myself. Unfortunately, I am *curvy* and, frankly, short.

  6. Z

    Jen, I did look wistfully at the saris. But it would look odd. There is bound to be at least one Russian Orthodox priest there and several Russians, as well as a Romanian and assorted Brits and, cosmopolitan as that sounds, I could not make it work, unIndian as I look.

  7. Ally

    I would go the DJ route too, if I was a bit less round. Every so often I get my black dress out of the wardrobe and dust it down and hope that it still fits.

  8. Z

    Last time I wore my long black dress, Ally, I got my bottom pinched. As I queued to pay at the petrol station, by a stranger.

    He explained that I had an irresistible bum.

    Maybe well rounded is not all bad. Depending on the effect you wish to make, of course.

  9. How do we know

    All the Best with that wardrobe hunt…mine gives me the despair each time I open it.. Thank god for sarees.. no matter how fat we get, all we need to do is to get another blouse done.. šŸ™‚

    so, now you are curvy and have an irresistible bum… Hmm.. does Sage have to be worried?? šŸ˜‰

  10. Wendz

    Dying to know what you have come up with!

    Enjoy the party Z…I am already in PJ’s and contemplating scrambled eggs and early to bed..I shall think of you dancing the night away.

    p.s. I first thought a DJ meant there was to be a DJ with a disco there….surely not, I then thought, and had a quick reread.

  11. Ruby in Bury

    Hope you’ve found something. Having an Indian husband I tend take the shalwar kameez option at most formal or formal-ish events. He sort of gives me the excuse, rather than being just a random Indian costume wearer šŸ˜€ I like shopping for clothes, but can never do it quickly and sometimes just don’t find anything I like. Anyway, do let us know what you go for in the end.


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