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In less than two weeks, I'm going to a ball. Yup, a real ball, just like Cinderella (minus the royals, and the evil stepsisters, and the fairy godmother, and the pumpkin-turning-into-a-carriage trick).

But, like Cinderella, I need a dress. And since no one is bippity-boppity-booing one up for me, I've been shopping.

A lot.

Last week, I ordered three dresses from Bluefly.com. The dresses looked pretty on the skinny headless mannequin in the photos, but then everything looks good on her. I have no idea if they'll fit me, or even if they'll arrive in time for the ball.

So, this weekend my mom and I made the pilgrimage down to that holiest of holy places -- Bloomingdales -- where I purchased two more dresses. These dresses -- one a short, tight strapless lacy number, the other an eggplant/brown halter dress with a swooping bejeweled neckline -- both looked great in the store. But then I tried them on at home, and . . . not so great.

Now the little lace one -- which I swear fit in the store -- won't zip up. And, yes, I did buy it in a size smaller than what I'm currently wearing, in the off chance that I'll be able to do in less than two weeks, what I have not done in the past two-and-a-half years: lose all of my baby weight. (Or at least five pounds of it . . . that and some tummy-sucking Bridget Jones panties should allow me to shoehorn myself into the dress.)

And the halter dress, which looked so flattering when I tried it on at the store, was anything but when I got it home.

"It just doesn't do anything for you," George said. "Especially the way it falls on your, um, hips."

Clearly, that dress now needs to be burned. Or returned. Or both.

I'm hoping that one of the dresses I bought online will work, but if they don't, I'm in trouble. In fact, there’s a very definite possibility I’ll have five dresses, and nothing to wear . . .

For all her bitching and moaning, Cinderella didn’t have that problem. Plus she had singing mice who did her housework for her.

Posted 16 January 2006 at 09:00 AM