I don't usually talk to people at the gym. I'm in and out, very focused when I'm there for I don't have a lot of spare time. But of course only last week...
"You have a gorgeous shape!"
Rivulets of sweat are running down my spine, the weight of the squat rack cutting the flesh on my shoulders (it ain't pretty when I'm training) as I lift my gaze to a warm, welcoming smile. I hook the rack up and run my hands self consciously over any lumpy bits,
"Thanks."
"I'm a dressmaker and your shape would be perfect to work on. Just so you know I'm not perving or anything. I just appreciate it." We both laugh.
At the time I remember thinking to myself "I so hope I don't need you"
Indiscernible packages arrived today. Covered in Chinese writing the only English word on them was "Shanghai"... What the?
Yes, that's right. I ordered the flower girl and bridesmaid dresses online.
They have arrived.
Ok, well some dresses have arrived. What I ordered wasn't what emerged from the packages.
There are two colours I have nothing to do with: ice blue and purple. ("Purple": even saying it sounds like you're puking) Both look rubbish anywhere near me and I return the favor. So as my excited seven year old and I tear apart the first bag what should rupture forth;
PURPLE!
"Oh Mum! Its SO beautiful!" She's dancing about delightedly, holding the dress to her.
"Oh dear god..." came my dismayed utterance
"What a wonderful surprise, Mum!"
"Wonderful..." with all the enthusiastic tone of a Monty Python "hooray". I grab up the "receipt" trying to make sense of it. "What the...?" Nothing.
"What's in the other bag, Mum?!"
With dread my eyes slip sideways toward the other package. Bridesmaid dresses. We brave it:
And once again, although right colour, completely foreign dresses to what was once ordered.
I hit the inbox, find the number and call them.
The person I had all my transactions with was "Sarah".
There had been no indication that they were coming from China. Or that "Sarah" has even less English than I have Cantonese.
"Sarah, I ordered the dresses in Ivory."
"Yes. Ivory. Yes. Yes." Within her voice she's smiling broadly.
"They're purple!"
"Aubergine."
"Excuse me?"
"The dress is Aubergine." Sarah's still smiling, evidently quite proud.
"No. No. On every receipt, every email they are ivory!"
"Ah well yes, ivory is very close to aubergine." I am informed with stoic authority.
"Ah, no its not. Ivory and aubergine are very different!"
"On our chart there are close....have look at website" Sure enough on their colour chart on the site for some obscure reason there is no sequential order in the colours; ivory is right next to aubergine. Regardless on every receipt, order form etc I had ordered "ivory".
"They are close."
"So is the wedding they are to be worn at, Sarah!" This isn't going anywhere...
Sigh...
My daughter now has the dress on and is spinning and twirling in front of the mirror, her delighted smile brighter than the aubergine itself. I can't help laughing. "Ivory is close to Aubergine."
I email our magnificent florist, a gifted artist, for somehow she will save this
"Elaine, a challenge in improvisation is upon us..."
Then search my bag for the card Imogen, the dressmaker at the gym, gave me. I don't usually speak to people at the gym...
I cannot help looking at the handmade beading and cringing at the thought of a six year old in a sweat shop slaving over my bargain dresses. Goddamn that! :(
"Improvise, adapt and overcome."
It was the catch cry when I was in Infantry in the Australian Army. I carry it through life. And it seems this approaching event is as tactical as any enemy contact I'd known before.
This wedding may well become a mastery in camouflage and concealment. :)
MH
No comments:
Post a Comment