Status: Sorry to leave you hanging guys! The keyboard on my laptop is malfunctioning.
Stop Pretending That You're Sorry
39
Have you ever tried something on in the store and it looked great, but then you get home and you realize how awkward it looks on you? That was my homecoming dress in a nutshell. Fuck.
It was Thursday night and the dance was Friday, and I was only just realizing how shit this dress actually looked on me.
“FUCK!” I exclaimed angrily, sitting down on John’s bed with a huff.
“Regan, is everything oka- oh,” Max had come to check on me. “Please don’t tell me that’s the dress you’re wearing to homecoming.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.
“I swear it didn’t look this bad in the store! Oh fuck, what do I do now? The dance is tomorrow.”
“Don’t throw a hissy fit, I’ve got this covered. We’re going shopping.”
“We’re going shopping? You and me? Max, what-“
“Don’t question it, just put something else on and we’ll go.”
And so we did.
The entire car ride I wasn’t paying attention to anything except the thoughts and worries swirling around in my brain. John was still acting weird. He’d been acting off ever since last weekend when we… well, you know. It was almost like he was distancing himself from me. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but I loved him, I couldn’t bare to lose him.
“Max, why the fuck are we at a thrift store?” I’d never gone thrifting in my life.
“Just trust me, you find some real fucking treasures in these places. And this way you don’t have to waste money on another expensive dress.”
He had a point.
So we ventured inside and I was met with a warehouse filled with boxes upon boxes stuffed full of clothes. They were marked with different things like ‘Men’s shirts $3’ and ‘Skirts $5’ and ‘Denim $4’. It was slightly overwhelming. When I say slightly…
“Come on, dresses are in the back.” Max slid his fingers between mine and pulled me in the direction of the aforementioned dresses.
There were all kinds of dresses, sweet summer dresses, ugly frilly dresses, old prom dresses, and some really old things that had to be at least from the 1930s. Max immediately began shuffling through racks upon racks of clothes, while I just kind of stood there, lost.
“Well come on then!” Max said, waving me over.
It took us about an hour to root through everything. I was pretty unimpressed with everything we’d come across. There was one gold mini dress that looked okay, and a short blue dress that was in with the prom leftovers.
“Go try them on, I’ll keep looking,” Max insisted. He was quite the shopper.
The gold one didn’t fit, it was much too big, and the blue one was way too short, I felt like my whole vagina was exposed to the world.
“Hey Regan, come check this out.”
I poked my head around the corner of the curtain concealing me in the dressing room.
Max held out a black dress. The top was entirely lace except for two thick black strips that started right above the nipples and joined together down at the stomach. From there the waist puffed out in a beautiful petticoat.
It was perfect. And only $7.
It was Thursday night and the dance was Friday, and I was only just realizing how shit this dress actually looked on me.
“FUCK!” I exclaimed angrily, sitting down on John’s bed with a huff.
“Regan, is everything oka- oh,” Max had come to check on me. “Please don’t tell me that’s the dress you’re wearing to homecoming.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.
“I swear it didn’t look this bad in the store! Oh fuck, what do I do now? The dance is tomorrow.”
“Don’t throw a hissy fit, I’ve got this covered. We’re going shopping.”
“We’re going shopping? You and me? Max, what-“
“Don’t question it, just put something else on and we’ll go.”
And so we did.
The entire car ride I wasn’t paying attention to anything except the thoughts and worries swirling around in my brain. John was still acting weird. He’d been acting off ever since last weekend when we… well, you know. It was almost like he was distancing himself from me. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but I loved him, I couldn’t bare to lose him.
“Max, why the fuck are we at a thrift store?” I’d never gone thrifting in my life.
“Just trust me, you find some real fucking treasures in these places. And this way you don’t have to waste money on another expensive dress.”
He had a point.
So we ventured inside and I was met with a warehouse filled with boxes upon boxes stuffed full of clothes. They were marked with different things like ‘Men’s shirts $3’ and ‘Skirts $5’ and ‘Denim $4’. It was slightly overwhelming. When I say slightly…
“Come on, dresses are in the back.” Max slid his fingers between mine and pulled me in the direction of the aforementioned dresses.
There were all kinds of dresses, sweet summer dresses, ugly frilly dresses, old prom dresses, and some really old things that had to be at least from the 1930s. Max immediately began shuffling through racks upon racks of clothes, while I just kind of stood there, lost.
“Well come on then!” Max said, waving me over.
It took us about an hour to root through everything. I was pretty unimpressed with everything we’d come across. There was one gold mini dress that looked okay, and a short blue dress that was in with the prom leftovers.
“Go try them on, I’ll keep looking,” Max insisted. He was quite the shopper.
The gold one didn’t fit, it was much too big, and the blue one was way too short, I felt like my whole vagina was exposed to the world.
“Hey Regan, come check this out.”
I poked my head around the corner of the curtain concealing me in the dressing room.
Max held out a black dress. The top was entirely lace except for two thick black strips that started right above the nipples and joined together down at the stomach. From there the waist puffed out in a beautiful petticoat.
It was perfect. And only $7.
♠ ♠ ♠
Now you can follow Regan on tumblr and ask her all sorts of questions at[url=www.its-regan-bitch.tumblr.com] its-regan-bitch.tumblr.com[/url]. See what kinds of things she likes.