Page 31 of It's Complicated

To Lori:

I love it, Princess

12

LORI

I stare at the text, mesmerized. The word princess in particular. Was he just playing on the nickname quip? Or referring to my earlier self-description as a boho princess? Or what?

Good thing it was a goodbye message and I don’t have to reply. But now I have to get ready for tonight’s dinner.

My girlishness score bumps up to a nine as I stand in front of the mirror, wondering what to wear. I have the perfect new shoes, but I suddenly don’t like any of the clothes in my closet.

I take out one hanger after the other, discarding the garments on my bed.

Now I wish I had more women friends who could help me with this. But all my doctor friends would probably suggest a psych-eval if I face-timed them with a wardrobe emergency.

The only other girlfriend I could call is Jessica, Jace’s sister. We’re pretty tight, especially since Jace, Aiden, and I all volunteer at her free clinic. But if I called her out of the blue on a random Saturday to get fashion advice, then I’d have to explain who I want to look pretty for, and I’m not sure I know the answer.

Only one option left. I have to go buy a new dress—no matter that my credit card is already simmering after the shoe shopping. But if I go to a department store, a shop assistant can help me choose, and getting professional help might actually be my best option.

I shower, flat-iron my hair in some sort of style, and apply basic makeup—I’m not the best at maquillage either, and I’m already doing enough experiments for today.

I dress in jeans and ballet flats and drop the Sergio Rossi shoebox in a tote bag—not confident I could drive in stilettos.

For my impromptu shopping spree, I choose a department store not too far away from my apartment. The mall is busy on a Saturday, and the parking lot is full. I circle it twice before finding a spot. I exit the car and walk to the women’s section. I’m supposed to be at the restaurant in an hour. If I want to be on time, I have to make this expedition into fashion really efficient.

Before I make it to the women’s fashion floor, I have to ride two escalators. As soon as I arrive, a shop assistant immediately comes my way.

“Hello, can I assist you with anything today?”

My typical response would be to avoid eye contact and mutter,“No, thanks, I’m just browsing.”

But today, I’m a woman on a mission.

“Yes, please, I need to find a dress for a date.”

“Any style you’re looking for?”

“I want to be sexy, but still elegant.”

“Absolutely… let me walk you to a fitting room and I’ll bring over some options. Any color schemes you were considering?”

“No, but I already have the shoes.”

I take the box out of the tote bag and show her the pumps.

“Oh, gorgeous. I’ve got a couple of dresses in mind that would be perfect with those.”

That’s how fifty minutes later, I walk out of the mall wearing my very first little black dress.

From the moment I saw the sheath dress, I knew it was the one. The neckline is a cross between a sweetheart and deep V with bare shoulders and long sleeves that start about halfway down my biceps—it’s still winter in Chicago, I need some sort of sleeves. The hem is way shorter than what I’m usually comfortable with, not mid-thigh but definitely above the knees. To make the outfit a little less serious, I bought a pair of silver-on-black polka-dot sheer tights.

The shop assistant also convinced me to get my makeup retouched at one of the booths on the first floor, which also compelled me to buy a new mascara, blusher, eye shadow, and contouring kit. I would’ve felt awful letting the makeup artist work on me for twenty minutes without buying anything. Also, when she kept pushing stuff in my hands that I “absolutely needed,” I couldn’t say no. I told you. Best. Customer. Ever.

But at least, as I stare at the final result in the car’s rearview mirror, I can honestly say it was worth every penny. The makeup lady has done a smoky eyes thingy that makes my gaze go POW!

As I turn on the engine, I’m glad I’m wearing a long down jacket. The polka-dot tights are super thin and it’s freezing—the car heating will take a while to kick in. To drive, I still wear the flats and switch to heels as I get to the restaurant. Since I’m already late, I hand my car keys to the valet.

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