Living in a shoppers' paradise: If the dress fits . . . buy it

So, here’s a little tip ladies (and my few fashionista fellas) – if you barely fit in the change room, it’s highly unlikely that you’re gonna fit in the dress.

Or is it . . . ?

*does best pondering face*

After holding up to myself what seemed to resemble a slightly lengthier black hanky, I had a little Cantonese woman say “Ooh you tall, you wear. You try, YOU TRY!” as she forcibly shoved me in to the change room (little bugger was stronger than she looked!).

Too scared to leave the change room – also known as 0.5 metre squared change hole with curtain and no mirror – I decided to de-robe (gayest expression), and give this little hanky a run for its money.

After impressing myself with some crazy flexibility skills (I knew those two yoga lessons would pay off one day) I maneuvered my way into this slinky number and – low and behold – actually did the zip up! Sweet!

Jo, 1. Dress, 0.

Still not sure what this thing is actually looking like (coz of lack of reflectory devices in change hole) I promptly pluck up the courage to step out from behind the curtain and face the mirror outside (as well as the probing hands of the Cantonese woman, who likes to touch giant lady).

Soooo . . . conclusion?

Well it’s a bit lame from the front (Cantonese lady tugs at bow), although I do like the back (puts her hands on my waist and squeezes), and I feel somewhat catlike in it (starts picking off imaginary threads from dress), which is always a bonus (does the waist thing again).

I start to weigh up the pros and cons . . . Pro: it fits! Con: I don’t have anywhere to wear it. Con: I have seventeen black dresses. Con: I am not sure that it’s actually that nice.

“I’ll buy it!” I declare (I never was very good at the adding up part of the pros and cons game).

“Oh yes. You buy,” smirks old ‘Seven Hands’.

So now I officially own yet another black evening dress, to wear to nowhere in particular. Wanna see it? Kay ('scuse lame photography)!