Metal Yell

I was supposed to wear this dress to the last performance of the 2017 – 2018 Pennsylvania Ballet season. With a blowout, plans to grab a drink with another couple who are part of the Young Friends group during intermission, and reservations after the ballet at Sampan, to say I had huge plans for this dress was an understatement.

The night prior I attended a happy hour for the Young Friends of the Pennsylvania Ballet. By the time I made it home, my husband was holed up in the living room, swaddled up in a blanket and drinking tea. Ninety minutes later, the affliction made it to me. A combination of a headache and chest congestion, I was so ill, it was difficult just to fall asleep. I was so sick that I ventured out to CVS the next morning in a sweatsuit, socks with Birkenstocks, my glasses. Lunch was pho.

Around the time we were taking out the broth, the husband and I decided that I should not get behind a car steering wheel, let alone make both us us attempting to make it to the ballet that night. DryBar was cancelled. Sampan was cancelled. The dress just never made it out.

Until today. I slipped it on, paired it with gladiator sandals and a bucket bag, and asked my husband if it was too much. He encouraged me to rock it shamelessly, even if the dress gave off walk of shame vibes. Everywhere I went, people asked if I was going somewhere. Nope, just brunch and Whole Foods.


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I try on the short pants, so you don't have to.

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