A beautiful moment

I had a Beautiful Moment yesterday.
I was in House of Fraser trying on clothes. I was spending hundreds of pounds on myself, for the good of my new business. Oh yes. I wasn't enjoying looking at this season's shoes, boots, jackets and dresses. No no no. I HAD to you see. I HAD to smarten up, on orders from the MD/CEO (my husband).
We are going out to meet clients face to face, and I have not updated my 'smart' look for 8 years as I have been employed. So, everything smart I have has wing collars and fat lapels and smells faintly of cardboard packing. Well, not all of it. But enough that it matters to The Boss. So he gave me the brief to go out, spend money and attempt a new look for me which is to 'Look smart, look professional, look business-like ... but look creative.'
Oh dear.
So ... I began by being easy on myself, tried on a few 'safe' items and got a lovely zip neck jumper (black naturally) from Jaegar and some posh other knitwear ... then I started trying on smart business dresses and jackets. I was fitting in them. FITTING. I am so used to high street chains where a size 14 skimps on fabric and may as well be a size 8 for all it bears to the reality of the average woman's curves but here, here, amongst the lofty sales girls and snooty floorwalkers I was actually finding clothes I could slip into, and look good in. I was so pleased I was fitting into a size smaller, looking and feeling slinkier and better than I have for years that I actually began to enjoy myself (a little).
So ... 3 items in the HoF bag!!! I was on a roll.
By now I was feeling braver, getting the buzz of a retail rabbit. I started to edge into the more exclusive areas -- Hugo Boss, DKNY, Episode ... a beautiful doe-eyed shop asssistant approached me as my bumbling size 14 fingers handled a £180 blouse and she said "These come in 6 colours ... and go up to size TWELVE" .
Was it me or was I being measured critically from afar? Perhaps a warning light had come on under her cash desk (or maybe a silent 'FAT FAT FAT' alarm?) and she had quickly (well, as quickly as a size 0 shop assistant can move and still look calm, possessed and cool) intercepted me before i stretched or be-greased her precious fabrics. I moved swiftly on.
Then. Then I found the most gorgeous dress. The colour was the bluey purple that I love, the cut was post-industrial so retained that edgy ex-punk look I love ... and it was belted so it showed off my best bits whilst disguising others. Well I scrabbled through the rack frantically looking at the sizes 0, 8, 10, ... 16 ... 8? ... 10 ... 16 ... ... oh. (An aside: isn't it bloody annoying when you find something you like and the fashion fascists only make it available in a size 8-12? Like they don't want their clothes associated with a fat ass.)
So, knowing I have what is kindly termed a 'curvylicious booty' (i.e. fat arse, plump thighs and well defined hips) I thought I would give the size 16 a go. I knew it would gape and bag at the top, but the colour was so good, the style was so nice. As soon as my hand lifted the hanger the SA (sales assistant) popped up from nowhere (a bit like in Mr Benn). Attractive, groomed, dark eyed, raven haired and with a sultry Spanish accent that could melt chocolate over chouros.
"Allo, can I elp you?" I mumbled about trying the dress on and she showed me the dressing room.
Now, being a bit fed up by now (and yes, I admit, lazy) with changing my clothes and taking long boots off, jeans off etc. I decided to be practical and keep the boots on, roll down the jeans below my knee and simply try the dress on like that.
Sorted
Well, of course the size 16 was far too big. Pity I thought, as I surveyed the colour. I could imagine this would look good. There I was in my rolled down jean-over-boot, exposing chubby knee, with £100 worth of baggy couture over the top, but I called out to MM that 'Shame it was too big'. Well, Spanish SA (unknown to me) was sweetly waiting outside and said 'Let's 'av a look' (not cockney: remember she has a beautiful rich Spanish accent). Argghhhh! 'No No .... it's alright' I spluttered, but too late she had got her foot in the changing room door and there I was, exposed in my stupid lazy changing attire. But ... would you believe she actually gasped. And not at my half on state of dress.
"But Madam!" She exhorted, 'Zat size is far too BEEG for you!" ... "But zee colour, it is beautiful on you! It is YOU." I mumbled about it was a shame she had no size to fit me and she (amazingly) said "Ah but you are TINY! I will get you zee sise 10 ..." Before I could stop her she was gone.
I moaned aloud to MM "I'll never get in a size 10! It won't even go round one leg! She mustn't be looking at me properly ..."
Well, I tried on the 10 just to prove a point to SA. BUT amazingly, it DID button up. I mean, I looked a bit like a blue sausage in it, but if you'd ever told me I could even dream of trying on a size 10 again, I would have choked on my onion bhajee.
So, SA is still saying 'You must 'ave it! You MUST! It is made for you!! It suit your eyes, your hair, your colouring .. I order it for you now ... See? I am going to order for you and you get it." OK, I think. And I ask SA to order me a size 14.
Her beautifully groomed eyebrows once more shoot up into her coiffured hair "Oh noh noh NOH! Zat iss too BEEG for madam. I get you sise 12 ..."
I could have been her best friend forever at this point, but I remembered it was me who was going to wear this dress, not her. My maturity kicked in (damn it) and I said politely, no, I preferred to wear a size 14. "Oh ... if madam is sure? but zis size is too BEEG you can change if you like ..?" I was definitely falling in love with her.
You have beautiful eyes
As I was paying at the cash desk she said once more "I sink ziss is a lovely colour on you ... you have zee most beautiful eyes. Zee dress just brings zem out. It is beautiful. Beautiful."
Falling in love
And that, my dear Crones, is what I call a Beautiful Moment. Shopping that becomes a real pleasure and an ego-trip, instead of a dreaded hot sweaty dismissal of your fatness and decrepitude.
Thank you Spanish SA in House of Fraser. Thank you. xxx You have made a middle-aged overweight woman very happy.