The Tale of the Little Black (& White) Dress

Once upon a time in the land of Queens there was a bodacious babe named Madmother. Now this bodacious babe was also a curvaceously booby babe, an aging Botticelli-style babe who was fully in touch with the reality of her bod.

This BB was turning the mixed-emotional milestone of the half ton... yes FIFTY! And as she had some dire knee-dom issues, had decided to hold an intimate gathering of those she adored to celebrate. After much sighing and sniffling she managed to cull her list of those nearest and dearest from 140 to 50 or so (earning the ire of many in the process), sent the invitations on steel chargers, and prepared to beautify her bodacious bod as much as her curvy, curtailed, current-state-getting-bloody-old figure would allow.

Now Madmother had a favourite shopping area. One that was realistic of price, splendid in choice, and realistic in the interpretation of real women. Or so she thought. Off she and Big Boy trotted the week before the BIG EVENT, all hyped up in anticipation and with great hopes.

They huffed and they puffed up to the first shop. Snooped and scooped, tugged and tried. The one dress sorta kinda what Madmother was looking for sorta kinda would not do up properly. Mind you, she did manage to snaffle a second version of her favourite maxi-dress in said shop, but her sadness and no obvious candidates for hot-damn dress of the year translated over to the lovely saleswoman. Said sales assistant piped up "What about our sister shop across the way there? They have more designer labels and the sort of thing you seem to seek!"

So with a giggle and a grin, Madmother and her trusty companion trotted over to the other retail outlet.

Now, I need to bring in some details here.

The dress she had tried and failed with was a sorta fitted designer dress in an Aussie size 16. By Joseph Ribkoff.

The dress she had bought the second one of was an Aussie size 14 - but a casual loose style. See where I'm going with this?


Madmother drooled at the gloriousness of the designer delicious designs. Grabbed one here, grabbed one there, grabbed many, many everywhere! Size 14, size 16, even a size 18!

And cried to see how NOTHING fitted. The size 16 would (again) not go near those bodacious boobs - a 10 cm gap at top of zip testified to that. The size 18 fitted over breasts, and swam over rest of body in a very good whale-like impersonation. The size 14 (and on the sale rack), did up, slid sensuously over hips, bum and tum, and then did a pastie like impression over front of chest, barely covering up nipples.

Madmother was devastated. She had dresses she COULD wear, but nothing that matched the image in her head of how seriously hot she needed to be to convince her nearest and dearest that broken knees and turning the half ton did not lesson her Madmotherishness, not her chutzpah!

She stamped her little foot (well, little compared to her bodacious bod) and turned her eye back to the sales rack near the door.

Where a little black and white dress by, you guessed it, Joseph Ribkoff hung tauntingly. Now, we know the size 16 was a hell NO over that bust in a size 16 at the beginning of this saga, and to make matters worse, this dress a sensuously swaying in the sea breeze was marked SIZE 10-12! Now, we know things can  be misleading in the sizing in today's world, but SAME DESIGNER? A minimum of TWO if not THREE SIZES SMALLER? You can guess the reaction of the snooty saleswoman (Oh sweetie, you'll rip the seams and be liable to pay for it) and the feeling-very-under-pressure-and-in-the-line-of-fire Big Boy (Don't worry, let's look elsewhere, we will find something...) to the request to try it on!

Now, this was the first dress in other shop Madmother tried on:

Lovely, isn't it?


This is the one she tried in the smaller size:

Ah, the great sizing dilemma... but who could have dreamt of such a difference?

Size does not matter? Pfft - size does matter when you are trying to buy clothes... And they wonder why I won't shop over the internet?

What about you? Do you have similar sizing scenarios?

 

A Reminder of What True Friendship Is All About...

Some time ago (in January), I posted about the very special friendship my oldest shares with his best mate of nearly a decade. It was in response to a writers' workshop challenge, and the brief was as follows:

1. Write something to say thank you to someone who has made a difference to your life...

(yes, this is a link to the post)

 

This weekend has once again reminded me of how truly blessed we are to be witnesses to this amazing relationship.

It was Boy 2's eleventh birthday last Friday. In keeping with our usual standards it was bigger than Ben Hur. Well, actually it was smaller than other years, and I had requested it to be lower key but somewhere my interpretation and Boy 2's became very different. Roll around last Friday afternoon, six extra boys invade arrive at our home for Nerf Wars. You may well ask, "What, pray tell, are Nerf Wars?" Nerf Wars are the result of my Machiavellian younger child devising a strategy game with two opposing teams, red and blue, four boys on each. A nerf gun is presented as their party gift on arrival (love toy sales - these cost less than the usual offering of lollies, stickers and novelties), as is a t-shirt in the team colour. Two massive timber bases have been constructed on our almost 3 acres of heaven, masses of foam bullets bought, turret and large guns in place at each base, Boy 2 designed logo with team name installed on each courtesy of laminated print outs (gotta love publisher); rules outlined, all systems go, go, go!

At least that was the theory until the rain Gods decided Friday was to be cold, damp and dangerously slippery...

This meant we had seven boys running screaming, yelling and shooting INSIDE, and one boy having trouble with sensory overload. Boy 1 pushed himself well outside his comfort zone, joining in the last minute training and target practice set up by Big Boy, but struggled to keep his demons under control in the bedlam. His best mate stayed by his side, running interference when necessary, helping Boy 1 to enjoy the games instead of merely coping with the games. It was a sleep over, and with the promise of a clear Saturday all were happy in the knowledge that morning would bring the true game. However, chaos ruled the night.

Boy 1's mate C is a popular kid. All others wanted to be near him, clamoured for him to join them in their late night mayhem. But C is a child of loyalty and strength. He does not bow to peer pressure or demands. He knows his friend well, and realised Boy 1 needed quiet time. So whilst six boys sat in one room loudly interacting whilst watching Clash of the Titans, C and his friend sat in the other, watching The Spiderwick Chronicles. When six manic boys bunked down in the spare room, C and his best mate withdrew to Boy 1's bedroom to read, talk and get some sleep. C politely declined the loud catcalls for him, he rebuffed the physical attempts to drag him into the other area, and told them in no uncertain terms he was staying put. With his mate.

Thanks to his actions, it was a very relaxed Boy 1 joining in the revelry the next morning. Eight boys running, shooting foam bullets, yelling, weaving, ducking, screaming. You would have been hard pressed to pick the one with autism. But you wouldn't have had trouble picking the two best mates. They stood, back to back defeating all unrelenting attacks. Just as they always have.

Nerf Wars rule!

Do I Dare? Huh, Do I, Do I?

Yeah, I do.


Complete with wig:

By night's end, post-wig hair...

Ah, Bollywood on the Gold Coast... And yes, I am still recovering! But worth it - fantastic night out with wonderful friends. Goat curry, anyone?

Sometimes It Just Turns into One of *Those* Nights...

So it was off. We were trying to pin down another date with little success. Out of the original five only three could make it, and as we three were driving long distances to get there it all became too hard.

But two of us lived not far apart. Hesitantly (shy little flower I am) I suggested dinner, as free nights are pretty rare and hard to arrange in the Madmother house. Falteringly, she agreed. We had never met face to face.

Oh my Lord! What a night. Started at the local Mexican Restaurant for dinner, moved on to a Radiators gig at a local pub, ended with an hour of laughing our heads off talking in front of her place.

I feel I have a new friend, a real life friend. We talked. A lot. We both do talk a lot. We laughed, oh my we laughed all night! I think we share a similar warped sense of humour, and think fast on our feet.

I left home at 6pm, I returned at 3am.


Sometimes the nights where everything appears to go wrong can end up so right.

Blog This Challenge 28: Secret Squirrel Stuff

Your Hidden or Unusual Talent...
Time to fess up!

Can you touch your nose with your tongue? Do you sing soprano? Are you a whizz with a budget or have a black belt in karate? Make a mean roast or have you received some form of public recognition for something real that your readers don't know about?

Blog This

 

You mean something I have not blabbed all over the interweb already? You like to make it hard for a girl, don't you. Let's see, you already know all about my roller derby ambitions.

 

You know I fake a mean feast. You know my reading tastes, be it the literary whore's trash or her slutty tease tastes. So I am a bit befuddled as to what secrets or hidden talents I have left to reveal. I mean, I do bake a mean roast, but I am the third generation of women in my family to do so and it is hardly a hidden talent. The queue rolls up the driveway when word gets out it's roast day...

You know all about my desire to write, you know I am good at organising fundraisers.

Oh, hang on a minute - I have it! I am the grand duchess of parties! You didn't know that, did you?

We have had many parties here over the years, ranging from small intimate gatherings to massive blockbusters. Every tiny detail meticulously planned. And each has been a wonderful success, in fact my friends complain I set the bar way beyond too high... I set it to impossible, or so they say.

Boy 1 and Boy 2 were allowed the grand celebration for turning five, then ten, next will be fifteen, then eighteen, and twenty-one. They can do their own from then on!
The five year old parties involved a jumping castle, pony rides and large numbers of friends. Oh, and a theme. Boy 1 was obsessed with Batman, Boy 2 dinosaurs. I even had dinosaur chocolates made to go with the dinosaur party bags, dinosaur cake, dinosaur balloons, dinosaur treats and toys - well, you get the picture.

By ten it had evolved into laser skirmish (Boy 1) and roller skating parties (Boy 2).

But our biggest party by far was our Halloween party three years ago. Seventy-eight people, of which thirty-six were children. We hired witches to entertain them and had the whole house transformed into Ghoul Hollow, but my favourite thing was an interactive skeleton which hung at the front door. He greeted guests with comments such as: "Nice mask, oh sorry that's your face!" or "I'd come in with you but I ain't got the guts."

Came close to similar numbers for my forty-fifth last year. Around sixty people packed the function room at the local pub. It was cheating in a way, as all I had to do was book the venue, choose and book the band, pick the food. And invite people. They did the rest. Danced my ass off all night.

"Am I ever gonna see you face again..."

We are planning another Halloween party next year. Think it may be even bigger than the 2006 event. Have started planning it now... gravestones on driveway: check; ghoulish webs, terrifying soundtrack: check; new batteries for my mate, the skeleton: check, check check! And that is only the stuff I am prepared to spill here. Make way for 2010's most horrifying, spine-chilling, incredibly fun event:

Halloween with a Madmother!

Mwahahahahahahaha...

 

So there you have it. My deep, dark secret none of you knew. And I am sorry but no, I am not available for private bookings. In fact, I'd rather you kept it a bit quiet. I mean, only a few hundred of my nearest and dearest have any idea about this hidden skill...