Double Vision

I broke my glasses at the Renaissance Festival a couple of weeks ago. grrrr. I knew going in to the Fair (even if Russ didn't) that I was going to buy a dress. I wasn't sure if it was going to be a wench-y sort of dress or what, but my friend Lucy had talked me into it. We looked at the wenchier varieties, but I wasn't satisfied. A little too, I don't know, Stevie Nicks, for my taste.


I didn't even really want to try anything on in the first shop. Then, across the compound, I saw a shop with more what I was looking for. The first dress I tried on wasn't right, but then I found one I loved. You really do need somebody to help dress you. I didn't get a good picture of the laced up back, but it does bring Mamie in Gone with the Wind to mind


The wonderful lady who helped me was very informative. Anybody who saw you in this get up (back in the day, that is) knew you were somebody with some money because you have to have at least one ladies maid to help lace you in. She was very business-like in her instructions. Sheer underdress goes on first, tucked into the lacy petticoat. Silk overdress goes on top. Silk underdress sleeves get pulled out. Then I have to cross my arms and "grab the girls" (her exact instructions) and lift while she was pulling on the laces in the back. It was so tight. I'm not hugely endowed, but what I have was (almost) all out there. I kept tugging the underdress up. Bff Lucy says it takes some getting used to. Yeah. Anyway, here's the dress. I think you can click on it to get a closer view. What fun. I immediately had to get a tankard of beer.


Anyway, after getting all laced up, I had to gather up my purse, jeans, t-shirt, etc. Nice lady was going to hold onto my street clothes for me, but I couldn't find my glasses. When I finally got to the bottom of the pile of petticoats, underdresses, and skirts, there they were, crushed under my heel in the little dressing room. Oh well. Wouldn't have looked right anyway.

I had to stop back by the shop to change back into a pumpkin before the drive home. When Nice Lady unlaced me, I let out a huge sigh of relief. She laughed, and said, "In this business, we call that a bodice-gasm." Perfectly appropriate.