This story began about a month ago when a JCPenney catalog showed up in my mailbox. I usually throw such things straight in the recycling bin, but this time I browsed before tossing. That's when I saw these completely fantastic, black leather boots. Oh my. I tore out the page and left it on the counter for days. This is totally unlike me. I'm way too practical and cheap and unfashionable for this. But I was truly pining for those silly boots.
Then my mom came to town and I tried on a pair. She offered to buy them for me for Christmas. I consented immediately, and soon the boots began to live in my closet.
Well. The perfect boots needed a great skirt to go with them. I found one I loved online (of course!), and when it came I tried it on and it fit (and actually looked pretty great), and I rejoiced in my amazing good fortune. I even found a red shirt to go with my ensemble, and some black textured tights, and the outfit was a 10.
I should mention here that it's probably been since junior high that I cared this much about a pair of shoes or an item of clothing. I'm ridiculous, and I know it. Anyway.
So Saturday afternoon I had to go to a church thing, and I didn't really want to go, so I decided to wear my fun new outfit to boost my mood. The shirt looked great, and I loved the tights. I put on the boots (yay!) and saved the skirt for last. Well, the dang thing wouldn't zip up. In case you were wondering, the skirt wasn't too tight. The zipper was just stuck. Garry tried to help me for about five minutes. This was at about 1:40, and we were both supposed to be in different places at 1:45. He finally had to race off (with all the kids), but I was standing in my room with a half-zipped skirt and totally frustrated. To top it all off, I was late. And I HATE being late.
Amazingly, I was still calm. And I was totally determined to fix that silly skirt. So I Googled "stuck zipper" and on the first website Google found for me, there were several suggestions for un-sticking a zipper that didn't want to zip. I decided to try some things. And, because I didn't want to walk around my (empty) house in just tights and a shirt (and boots, of course), I turned the skirt around, unzipped it, and bent over so I could attend to the zipper. First I rubbed the zipper teeth with a pencil. Didn't work. Then I tried Windex. Nope. Then I applied lip balm. That seemed to have great promise! Suddenly, the zipper was at the top of the skirt! Hooray! I was elated.
But then, before I could even turn the skirt around, the zipper split below the pull tab. It was still fastened at the top, but the teeth gaped clear to the bottom of the zipper. OH BROTHER. I managed to get the zipper down just far enough to take it off. That's when I abandoned the project.
I squeaked into the church about a minute before the program started. I had completely changed my outfit. Better luck next time, right?