wedding finery

         We're going to a family wedding soon. The question always comes up, at least for me: "What will I wear?"
         So I went to a store and looked. I never have enjoyed clothes shopping, and find it harder and harder to find wearable things at stores anymore. Who are these women who can wear such things? But I did see a skirt that "looked like me" and even was on sale. Its colors are black, gray, some sort of grayish-off-white, and a rather pretty crimson/pinkish purple/bordering-on-burgandy. Are you getting the picture with that last color? The coordinating top hanging on the adjoining rack was not me at all. I figured I'd have no problem finding something (preferably other than black) to wear with it. Wrong.
        The pretty crimson/pinkish purple/bordering-on-burgandy should tell you just how hard that was. I cruised one store after another. The colors related to that shade became confusing to my eyes. I would spot the color, go over, and pull the skirt out of my purse where it was crumpled in a bag. If I did find a decent match,  it would undoubtedly be a top with so much spandex that it showed every curve I'd rather hide.
         Or I'd find something wearable but the shade just wasn't right. I looked for a light gray too--but there aren't many semi-dressy tops in gray these days.
         It suddenly occurred to me that I was getting sick of the skirt. I'd looked at it so many times––trying it in on with various tops in dressing rooms all across the city. And besides that, everything seemed to be turning pink to my eyes, like in a bad dream.
        One last store––and I found it. A bit shimmery, but about as good a match as I'd come across. By this time I was lecturing myself about the time I'd wasted looking for something. Feeling yucky about it. I brought it home, tried the whole outfit on, and showed it to the Gardener. There was something in his eyes that made me hesitate, though he said it looked nice (the gracious man knew how hard I'd been trying.)  It was night time and we were both tired, and the lighting wasn't so good. (Note to self: if you worry about getting the lighting right when matching colors, forget what you're trying to match.)
         The next morning, after "sleeping on it" I realized I'd had my fill of the skirt. Sick of the colors, the time wasted, tired of the whole deal. I questioned if I'd wear it enough and didn't want another "wrong choice" hanging in my closet. I've always struggled with clothes ... never knowing if I'm dressed right ... yearning for simpler times ...
       I'm returning it all tomorrow. And going back to the closet. Surely I'll find something there. I'll be the only one noticing or remembering anyway. I really need to stop fussing about such things and make the best of what I have. We'll be bride watching anyway.