Clearly, The Perfect Red Dress

Do you remember the song “At Seventeen” by Janis Ian?  It’s a sad song.  It’s a sad song, and I knew, even as a little girl, that it was tragically relevant to life.  But I am happy to say that it is only marginally relevant to this post.  Hardly germane at all.  Don’t ask me why I mention it.

Ok fine, I’ll tell you:  Balance.  Or blessed dichotomy.  It is a minor reason (of the multitude) that I cry when I watch “Sense and Sensibility”— where Elinor can’t stop sobbing (in delicate snorts & hiccups) while Edward awkwardly (finally!) proposes.  It is the shadow that lies split behind Chris De Burgh’s “Lady in Red”.  It nuances why pulling off The Perfect Red Dress is such a thing to celebrate.

Thankfully, Maurya doesn’t have much in the way of  “At Seventeen” baggage.  For one thing, she’s still sixteen.  For another, she’s not one to pine for long; she makes her own way.  But still.  I don’t know; there was an element of catharsis for me as I sewed the Perfect Red Dress for her from fabrics and pattern that she had chosen for herself.  We shared the creation of the dress, as we share the bittersweet heritage of women.

Speaking of relevance/irrelevance, I have two more stories to tell before I say the end.  First, my niece Chandler texted her dad with a conversation she overheard at BYU:

“A conversation I just over heard between a girl and a boy that don’t seem to know each other that well:

• Girl ~ I’m staying away from boys.  I just can’t comprehend marriage!
• Boy ~ Are you dating at all?
• Girl ~ Yeah.
• Boy ~ Would you go on a date with me?
• Girl ~ Yeah, for sure!
• Boy ~ Sweet, because you’re cool.  So what’s your phone number then?

As the conversation went on the guy found out that she has two other dates this week when he tried to set a date.”

Second, I have to explain the transparent mummy in the picture below.  The week before Homecoming, someone doorbell-ditched our house—a common occurrence in this kid-filled neighborhood.  This time though we found Mr. Translucent (made out of pack

ing tape) leaning almost grotesquely against a porch column.  Maurya was called to the scene, because the message he held in his freaky see-through hand was for her:  “Clearly, I am here to ask you to the dance.”