Red Dresses and Blue Jeans

by Grace Barbic (Australia)

A leap into the unknown Italy

The change room felt smaller then it had ever felt before as I slipped from my sweaty blue jeans into a potential new dress. I was so afraid to touch it, worried that I would somehow break it. My friends were sitting eagerly outside, asking me how the dress felt. Gingerly, I slipped it on. The fabric felt soft and smooth, falling into my body effortlessly. “How does it look? Does it feel nice?” My friend Emily asked. “It...feels a lot nicer than I’d like it to,”. Some chatter between everyone started but I tuned it out and focused on the dress. On my body was a red Versace cocktail dress priced at $200 Australian dollars. This was within my budget, somehow. Apparently there were new clothes coming in so everything from the oldest collection was reduced to make room. This was the only case of right place, right time I’ve ever experienced. “I...I think I like it,” I said cautiously. “Let’s see it!,” My friends squealed excitedly. I timidly pulled back the curtain and stepped out. The very friendly sales assistant retrieved some heels for me to wear to help accentuate the dresses featured on me. I took the shoes and put them on in the change room. I stood there for a few moments and analysed myself in the dress. It was perfect. So perfect. I could see myself at fashion shows, award shows and the most fancy dinners that in real life I would probably not attend. “Well?” They called. I stepped out. Within three seconds, all of them instructed me to immediately buy the dress. There were no light suggestions or options, I was given strict orders to buy the dress. To be fair, it didn’t take that much convincing, especially with the price conversion. Back home, even on sale, that dress would have probably cost at least $500. “Okay okay okay okay. I don’t really have a choice do I?” I was met with a resounding, unified no. I changed back into my actual, not designer clothes which probably smelled quite a bit at this point. I carefully peeled the dress off me, still scared to properly touch it. I carefully held my dress in my hands as I walked towards the register, feeling unworthy of holding such a beautiful garment. “Just the dress for today madame?” The second sales assistant asked. “Yes please! I didn’t even think there would be a dress at all!” I replied. To be honest, I think I maybe just said yes and beamed the entire time. I’m fuzzy on the details. With their fitted gloves and meticulous methods, they beautifully packed the dress in a white box with the Versace label proudly on the lid. The carry bag fit around it neatly, and they handed it over to me. “Have a lovely evening madame,” they said. “Thank you so much!” I said, eagerly taking the bag and meeting up with my friends. We all excitedly walked together out of the store to see if we could get anything else, but unfortunately all the shops were closing. At that point, I didn’t think it would get better so I was happy to leave on the highest possible note. We were so ecstatic that we forgot just how we were supposed to get back to our hotel. “I love a walk as much as the next person, which is to say I hate it but I feel like we should find another way first,”. After some confusing communication, we made our way on the bus and took our seats. Very pleased with our shopping trip, it took all of about two minutes for the immense hunger to kick in. Apparently, a $15 sandwich from the Gucci cafe isn’t as filling as you’d hope.