Lost ... Never Found

There comes a time in your life when you realize that your parents are brilliant. They are invincible and can do anything, can fix everything. For during that time, you are unstoppable because you have this arsenal of super powers in your back pocket, a safety net created by Martha Stewart and Bob Villa.

And as you grow older, so do your parents. And as you gain perspective, insight and skills of your own, you notice that theirs may deteriorate. And so I have finally realized that my mom's sewing skills are not what they used to be. I can no longer find the "almost-perfect dress," and have her make it perfect.

It was a $100 lesson to learn most recently. My princess dress, for the wedding. Everything I wanted -- black, satin, tulle, strapless, even a bow! And yet, it did not zip up over my chest. And I knew no matter how much weight I lost, the "girls" weren't going to get dramatically smaller. I bought the dress anyway -- because I knew my mother could work her magic.

Straight from the store, I brought it to her. It was floor-length -- I wanted tea-length. No problem. She could take off three of four inches, and take that material to create "gussets" in the bodice. No problem.

Two weeks before I was to leave for my vacation/wedding trip, she called to say the dress was done. "The knap doesn't match exactly, but there wasn't much I could do." Excuse me! We went round and round on the phone, with her side-stepping, back-tracking and all out making me very nervous about whether the alterations were going to somewhere between noticeable or down-right visible.

I refrained from driving the 60 miles north to get my dress immediately. She called me later in the day to tell me that she looked at it again, and it looks fine. Apparently something happened to her eye sight between noon and 6pm that day. I told her I would deal with it when I saw the dress.

The next day at work, I hopped on the computer. I love Nordstrom -- $5 flat shipping and a kick-ass return policy. I ordered three dresses -- all over $120 -- and had them shipped directly to my brother's in Virginia. I felt better. I had a back-up. Plan B was in action. No matter what the dress looked like, I would have a poker face.

I picked up the dress, tried it on, thanked her for her hard work. I didn't even really look at the dress. I was still too anxious over it. I needed a second opinion. That opinion came in the form of my sister-in-law and niece, who when I took the dress out of the bag in Virginia, both said, "oh no, she ruined it."

Thank god for Plan B. I have a beautiful halter dress -- very Marilyn in "Seven Year Itch." And I'm not wearing a bra with it!! It's gorgeous. I don't think I'll feel like a princess in this dress, the way I would have in the other. But being a princess might be over-rated.

Find me a subway grate -- and I'll be ready for my close-up!