Countless assurances, endless stories. They all told me one thing , there's a match for you somewhere. And one day, you will find it. Me, like a hopeless romantic that I am, believed and yearned to meet my match.
As time fled, my curiosity grew, no it wasn't dampened. My faith was unshakable. It was etched so deeply in my mind- I almost read those stories like hymns. Everyday, with the same conviction.
Not too long ago, I was seen shopping with mum. A very rare combination. She is not a shopaholic. But someone who knows style. She created real pretty frocks when I was a child, every year for my birthday till I was 6. She forced me into Baggy Jeans- Balloon frocks- All that 90s jazz I despised. She plainly dismissed my love for low-waist denims & bell-bottoms when I relentlessly kept piling on those.
However, there are a few shopping moments thereafter , where we shared those "AHA" moments - we found that perfect dress that would suit me in the early 2000s. And those dresses killed it, everywhere I went. Those were floor length pencil skirts in crochet & printed velvet. So exotic , I could barely walk in them, but when I did, it was a catwalk .
So when this autumn, I went shopping with mom, after maybe a decade, we found our favorite place. We saw this skirt and it was paired with a oriental zipper crop-top. But it was sold out ! He let me try an alteration piece. How cruel! I couldnt sleep. I came back next day and forced him to show me more. I wanted the same skirt color. He showed me the pinks , greens ,but I wasn't impressed. He then phoned another branch, to check if the same skirt I had fallen for was available with a different upper. And yes it was.
Without a blink, I said yes. And I got it home. Both me and mum marveling at the idea of how and where I can wear this combination. We found it.
Till next time,