Party Dress

This is not my party dress,
but it’s the closest one I found.

I was planning my first ever New Year’s eve party to ring in 1982 and needed the perfect party dress. A dress that would make me feel pretty, grown up and like the perfect hostess.  I didn’t know what I was looking for when I set off shopping, but as soon as I saw it I knew. 

It  reminded me of Mary Tyler Moore. I’d grown up watching her on The Dick Van Dyke Show and the iconic 1970’s Mary Tyler Moore Show. Every Saturday night she’d toss her hat into the air and we knew for certain she was going to make it on her own. I was much more like Mary’s BFF Rhoda Mogenstern than Mary but I didn’t want to be the sidekick at my own party.

Fresh out if college, and trying to avoid my propensity for extravagance I set out for Unique Clothing Warehouse. Unique was where I did a lot of my shopping, and they had a great selection of used  vintage clothes that fit more than my budget. Even in my younger, thinner days, I had trouble finding clothes that felt right and vintage clothes fit my curves nicely. 

As I pawed through the racks I spotted it. It was a black velvet, princess cut with a flared skirt, three-quarter sleeves and a rounded, scooped neckline with cut-out scallops. (My description hardly does it justice.) I was nervous heading to the fitting room; would it fit, would it look good on me? As I slipped it on I was surprised it zipped easily. I looked down and it seemed to fit. I turned slowly to face the mirror and couldn’t believe what I saw.

It’s rare that you find an article of clothing that seems like it was made for you and there are few rushes that can compare. I stood staring at myself, at my transformation from short, chubby but cute girl to freaking Mary Tyler Moore. I twirled around and around admiring myself. 

The black velvet made my pasty white skin look creamy. The rounded neckline showed off just enough of my chest, shoulders and back to be sexy without being immodest, and the princess seaming made me look like I had an hourglass shape. I looked beautiful and in that moment I saw someone who only vaguely resembled the person I thought I was. The dress was magical, I didn’t want to take it off.

I don’t know what became of that perfect party dress. I don’t recall wearing it any other time, though I surely did. Somewhere there is a photograph of me wearing it though I can’t find it. I am leaning slightly towards someone in conversation. My permed hair in loose curls, and with all the audacity of a twenty-three year old feeling gorgeous the only make-up I have on is mascara. I might have been wearing pearls to complete the look. I found some pictures from the party, but not that one. When I tell you I looked about as lovely and fetching as I ever have you should believe me; it’s not something I’m wont to say.  

Party dresses are now part of my past. I don’t know the last time I wore a dress of any sort. I only remotely resemble the girl I was then, though a shadow of her remains. Once in a while I see her look back at me from a mirror in a softly lit room. Since then I’ve worn other clothes I’ve adored, but none as magical or transformative as that black velvet party dress.