I'm going to save my "inspired by" portion for later, under my response, so as not to influence what you might write. As always, make what you want of it, what comes to your mind, and don't worry about whether it's right or wrong.
Prompt:
If they thought she was going to wear that dress, they had another thing coming.
Okay, go, write, Enjoy!
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My response:
I was thinking of the the ad I'd gotten in the mail today full of prom dresses. Maybe I'm just not "fashionable", but every single dress in the whole ad was ... gruesome. I don't have another word for it. The fabrics were dark, splotchy, and hideous, and the skirts were barely long enough to cover their belly buttons. It made me think, if this is what prom dresses look like today, how bad must the bridesmaids dresses look?
So, without further ado:
"Do you like it?"
My little sister's sickly sweet voice drifted over my shoulder. She stood behind me, but with the floor to ceiling windows in front of us, I couldn't count on that to hide my reaction.
I forced a smile. "Wow. Look at that."
The dress stood in front of us on the stand. If someone had asked me to design the most hideous dress imaginable, this dress wouldn't have been that far off. The bodice looked like a wedding dress from the eighties - sweetheart neckline and poofy sleeves - the kind of thing that only looks good on a Disney Princess. From the waist to the knee, layers and layers of taffetta stuck out from the gown, looking like a twisted slinky ... or like the dress had been mauled to pieces by pit bulls before they'd brought it to the store.
Sidney slid around me and reached out to the dress, caressing it softly.
"I just adore the color. Bronzed Chocolate! It's all the rage these days. It'll really set off your eyes, don't you think?" She fixed her gaze back on me.
My smile faltered. Maybe I didn't have blue eyes, like Sidney, but they definitely weren't the color of dried elephant dung. And I wasn't about to wear a dress that would make me look like a half-charred marshmallow.
Two could play at this game, though, and it was my move.
"Oh, sweetheart, you must have been thinking of yourself when you picked this one out. I totally think you should get it - take it on your honeymoon!!!"
Sidney froze. Then blinked.
"Now let's find something else for me, shall we?" I smiled sweetly.
"It's hideous," I told her flatly. I stood glaring at my 6 year old reflection, arms out, hating the gingham fabric. My mother seemed to think I enjoyed being dressed like an elderly square dancer.
ReplyDeleteShe stopped pinning the hem of the dress, tilted her head from side to side then pulled another pin from her pin cushion.
"That's a pretty big word, honey." Her thick Texan accent dripped from her lips. I felt a quick tug on the skirt as my mother evened the hanging fabric.
I would never have remembered this before. My memory must have blocked it out, but now that it was happening all over again, the feelings of embarrassment and memories of what was still to come returned.
I still hadn't figured out what was happening to me, but until I did, I'd have to sound more like a 6 year old.
"There." My mother leaned back examining her work. "Oh darlin', you look lock a little angel! Now slip it off so I can finish it."
"Mama, " I said, trying to sound innocent. "Can I go outside?" I had not inherited my mother's twang, but instead, thankfully, had taken on my father's average american accent.
"Be back in 20 minutes. We're havin' dinner early tonight."
"Okay." I pulled the dress off, receiving a few pricks from the pins in my haste, and slipped my jeans and t-shirt back on. I was pushing at the cracking white paint of the creaky screen door in less than a minute. I had to think.
What had happened to me? Last night I had gone to bed in my room covered in posters and pictures, dreaming of Jonah, and this morning I had woken up in my old room, saturated in pink and flowers.
Was it all a dream? I was pretty sure I had finished elementary school and middle school. I was in high school, going to Miner High, a school that never existed when I was six. I had gotten my driver's license. The old Honda had a dent in the front right corner from when I had pulled out of an underground parking spot too quickly and hit the nearby concrete column. I went through all the classes I was taking and recalled other things I had learned in past classes. I had been invited by Jonah Marcellius to the prom. Oh no...was I going to miss the prom? Could someone remember that kind of detail from a dream?
Yet here I was, sitting on the same old rock on our front yard in the Colorado mountains, drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick like I used to do. Had the last ten years all been just a dream? Would I have to relive them?
"Mary Jo." My ears rang from the high pitched, sing-song way my mother called. I hadn't been called like that in years. Probably because I was never outside playing anymore.
"Yeah, mama."
"Please come inside." Her voice sounded odd, worried.
I walked inside. A man in a neat suit and a bold red tie stood, hands behind his back, in the hall way.
LOVE your description of the dress! Ew!
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