And it was my blue lady-editor dress that I wear to respectable parties with respectable people (see above). Now I’ll have to wear sweatpants and Uggs and everyone will know that I’m a harlot.
Before Christmas I got this dress back from the dry cleaners, realized that I couldn’t zip it up properly and promptly freaked the fuck out. Then I stopped eating carbs for a few weeks. Then I lost ten pounds! So, that was a thing that happened. Yesterday, I realized that everything else in my closet was really loose, and I tried on my favorite dress. It still wouldn’t zip. Rather than immediately saying “you fat disgusting pig” I looked at it again and realized that, while in the past it’s always hung right around my knees it now goes up… halfway up my thigh. “Why would I buy a dress that looks all 1930’s on top, yet seems to believe it’s about to go dancing at Bungalow 8 on the bottom?” I wondered. Bungalow 8 doesn’t even exist anymore! So. Why indeed?
The answer is: I would not do that! That is not a thing it would make sense to do!
So I think something must have gone awry at the dry cleaners. Although that seems impossible because aren’t dry cleaners powered by wizardry and magic? I don’t know what they do, but shrinkage seems… impossible? Besides, my dry cleaners is nice! They’re pleasant in there, except they sometimes give me the wrong things when they return my dry cleaning, which I guess should have made me suspicious in the past? But yeah, it’s definitely shrunk. And it’s about three years old, so I don’t think it’s going to be possible to replace it at this point.
The cleaners is literally right next door to my apartment though, so I don’t want to make trouble, because, among other things (they’re very pleasant!) it just seems really unlikely that I’m going to walk out of my way to another dry cleaner.
Has this happened to anyone? What do you do? Someone suggested “firebombing” but I’m not very good at chemistry.