THE LITTLE BLACK DRESS
Word Count: 360
The little black dress was bought for her first college dance. Mini-skirt short, rolling into and over the lush curves of her hips. Seductively low at the neck and thin little cap sleeves. It took her to bars and to weddings of friends and to upper crust parties in the city.
After she married it hung in the back of the closet. Too short, too low-cut, too tight now, she knew, but her heart couldn’t throw it away. She thought of it once for an occasion that required her to “doll up” as her husband had said. He bought her a strand of pearls. She shopped and zipped up and zipped down and stepped in and out of a few dozen dresses or more. One hugged her the moment she pulled it over her head. In the dressing room mirror she smiled. Ran her hands down the soft sides of her body. Breathed in the comfort and style of its shape as it held her in its caress.
That second black dress went through many good times in her life. Her husband got jealous one holiday dinner when his good friend put his arm around her waist, held it there a bit longer than good taste, he thought. Yet he couldn’t deny she looked dazzling, not really seeing what it was that she wore.
The children grew up and scattered like raindrops falling on cities in all outward directions. Home was still centered in the heartland and she rarely went out to dress-up affairs anymore. Jeans and a plaid flannel shirt were her everyday shell.
Then he got sick and she didn’t care what she looked like. Didn’t care what she wore. Often she slept on hospital couches in whatever she’d rushed to put on the day before. She lost weight and punched two more holes in her belt. Within months she weighed what she had back in college.
No fun in shopping. Shoes she had found, a handbag was borrowed. Her hand skimmed over the racks lightly, as if something would break. Then she stopped, pulled out the hanger and stared at the little black dress.
Susan – how powerful the little black dress and its memories are. Thanks for this bautiful story. S.
Thank you, Shirley. It all was unfortunately brought to mind when I needed the somber black and I thought back to my first one and how we depend upon them for both happy and tragic occasions.