My mother used to be my seamstress, she was hands down the best seamstress in all of Oklahoma, nay, the world, nay, the universe. The covenant between a seamstress and her client is sacrosanct. You have to be able to trust your seamstress to tell you the truth about your clothing choices. Not what they think you want to hear, even if that truth is harsh.
So I needed a seamstress to do some alterations on a dress I am going to wear to a formal wedding. I found the dress I wanted, I was really hoping I wasn’t just thinking it would look good on me and it was not going to.
I researched online to find a seamstress, I found one with great reviews and called her. She could fit me in, I have two dresses, one is my dream dress the other a backup.
I took both because one needed to be altered and one needed to be hemmed.
Today I had a fitting, the one that needed to be altered, dream dress, fits like a glove, but I didn’t want to be overly optimistic. So I said I’m not really sure, she said try on the other one, I did. She came into the room and said can I be honest with you.
I said, yes please, brutally, she said the first dress looks amazing on you, this dress makes you look older than you are. I was like um I’m 55, she said what, I said um yeah. She said no, this is not the dress for you, the first one looks amazing and that is the one you need to wear.
I concurred, she will finish the alterations and have it cleaned and pressed and I will pick it up Monday.
I am very excited, this wedding is going to be so awesome, I cannot wait to see this beautiful bride walk down the aisle.
I am very happy to have found a good seamstress in the area, I haven’t really had one since my mom stopped being one. Like I said, the trust has to be there, my mother used to tell me some harsh truths. And I appreciated it, greatly, I am not one to tell a white lie when it comes to fashion.
It’s a risky thing, to tell a stranger the truth in a department store dressing area. I have done that, of course I told them my name was Rachel and I was a buyer for Bloomingdales. I didn’t want to die.
being the daughter of a seamstress affords me a different eye when it comes to fashion and what fits and what looks good on people. I wish I could sew, I cannot, I never had the patience to learn, my poor mother tried, but even she had to admit defeat.
My head was better suited to living in the clouds and reading all day long. She knew that and was happy to allow me to be well, me.
Maybe I’ll post pictures of me in the dress, that way you can all judge me. It’ll be too late by then, but hey, that is what the internet was invented for. Judging others after the fact, or making up stuff in it’s entirety and going to jail for it.