Once upon a Red Dress

Almost a year ago, a very good friend got married in Lima.  I was very excited about her wedding, it was a great story, 20 years in the making.  I also knew it was going to be an amazing party, and it was my return to Lima after over a year (after a bad break-up).  Bottom line, I knew I wanted a fabulous dress.  I started thinking about it months in advance, looking here and there, hoping to find something truly special.  Finally, one day, I decided that I was going to wear an Indian sari.  I find them elegant, sophisticated, and I knew I would be the only person at the wedding with a sari, so the “standing out” factor was guaranteed.  I started looking for sarees, oh my, what a task that was.  Websites and websites, hundreds of pictures, fabrics, colors, styles, prices…..totally overwhelming.  On a business trip to New York, I even stopped in Jackson Heights and tried on a few.  After over a month looking, I ordered one online, finally received it, but was not what I expected.

A few weeks later I was in Madrid again, meeting my very good friend from Serbia.  It was a fun trip, we stayed in a nice little hotel, walked everywhere, ate, drank, talked and shopped…nice quality time together!  After all…I love Madrid!!  We casually looked for “the” dress during the first few days, but had no luck.  On our last day there, a Monday, we walked by a store which we had seen before, and my friend suggested we go in.  I wasn’t too interested, but gave in.  They only had one potential dress, which didn’t wow me.  Nevertheless, I tried it on.  It was big on me, they pinned it, and when I came out of the fitting room, my friend said “that’s the dress.”  I wasn’t convinced, it was nice, but it wasn’t what I was looking for; and then, I saw the price and was shocked.  No way I was spending that much money on a dress!!  Nevertheless, due to my friend’s persistence, I asked them to hold it for a few hours.  We left the store, had lunch, walked around and she kept telling me to get the dress, I kept saying “it’s not what I’m looking for.”  In my mind, I wanted an emerald green dress with a plunging neckline.  This was a strapless red dress, and even though red is my favorite color, I never wear strapless.  So I was not convinced.  We met up with my childhood friend who was mentioned in my Madrid love affair story (with the city), and told him about the dress.  I needed another opinion, a male opinion.  I wanted to make sure it would be elegant and sexy, instead of “cute and pretty.”  We ended up doing other things and by the time I thought about the dress it was 7:45pm and we were having wine at my favorite Madrid sidewalk restaurant.  The store closed at 8 and we were about 6 blocks away, so we started walking briskly, trying to make it on time.  I showed him the same dress on a mannequin (he was not impressed) and then I tried it on.  His face was priceless, just by looking at him I knew it was “The Dress.”  He convinced me to buy it and to spend an outrageous amount of money (for my standards) on the dress.  The salespeople were convinced that he was buying me the dress…not the case though!  The dress was big, so it had to be taken in.  I left it there, thinking that a friend would take it to Miami very soon.  Wishful thinking on my part, my Spanish friend never traveled to Madrid.  Anyway, I had a dress, but it stayed in Madrid.  I was happy about my decision, and the next step was getting it home.  

After doing some research I found out that the dress designer is Princess Letizia’s favorite designer, and that she had worn a very similar dress to a royal wedding in Sweden that summer.  I had no clue, it was a total surprise, no wonder it was so expensive.

In the meantime, when I got back to Miami, my mom was in Colombia and needed to speak to me urgently.  She finally got a hold of me, and the urgency was to tell me that she and my dad were thinking about making an attempt to get back together.  My parents have been divorced for 32 years, and this came as a total SHOCK (actually, SHOCK is an understatement).  The reason why I mention this is because the dress was never shipped to Miami (over $300 to send it), so my childhood friend took it to Cali.  The wedding was getting closer, about 10 days away, and the dress was still in Colombia.  I couldn’t travel because I had a few business trips those days, so my father found the perfect excuse to come see my mom in Miami, he was going to bring the dress!!  He made it!!  It was the first time after 32 years that I saw my parents cohabitating, what a strange feeling.  After witnessing that, I am sure I will need therapy for life!  Back to the dress…it was still quite big on me, so had to rush it to a seamstress with only a few days for my trip.  Finally, everything was ready, dress, shoes, earrings!  I was ready to go!

Next thing I know I’m on the flight down to Lima.  The guy sitting next to me spilled his champagne and orange juice on my leather jacket and purse even before taking off.  Right there I knew it would be an exciting trip.  I changed clothes (luckily had some in my carry-on), the flight was delayed because they had to get a dry cushion for my seat.  I finally had a few glasses of Malbec on the way to Lima, all was good, the stains on my jacket did not spoil my trip, I had a huge smile on my face the whole time!  My seat neighbor was surprised at my reaction, he expected me to be totally upset, but there was no point in that.  He made his best effort to make it up to me, invited me to play golf, wanted to take me out to dinner, offered to pay for my dry cleaning, and so on.  Never saw him again though, he’ll always be the guy who spilled his drinks on me.

We had three days of events prior to the wedding.  Lunches, cocktail parties, dinners, lots of friends, lots of dancing.  I was having a great time.  I absolutely love Lima, and during that entire trip, I felt a sense of excitement and anticipation, even without drinking much.  Then, it was finally Saturday.  Got my hair done, did my own make-up (I’m very picky) and had to call housekeeping at the hotel so they would send one of the housekeeping staff to help me zip the dress (I was staying alone).  I was all ready and felt like a million bucks.  I went down to get on the van that was taking us to the wedding location, hoping to find other people, but I was alone.  Some friends had already gone and others were not ready yet, so I decided to go alone.  It was chilly out and I didn’t have anything to cover myself.  The ride was short, and my heart was racing.  It’s strange that I felt such anticipation.  It was my friend’s amazing wedding, a lot of preparation to get a fabulous dress, a chance to run into my ex-boyfriend whom I had not seen for over a year, and given the amount of dancing I had already done the previous days…lots more was awaiting!! 

I came down from the van and all the security guys turned around, I walked in and a bunch of friends were standing there, all looking at me in my incredible Red Dress.  I felt on top of the world, totally glamorous, sexy and elegant…not “cute and pretty”!!!  Everyone had something to say about my dress, I received countless compliments.  It was perfect! That was the beginning of a magical, surreal and strange night.  I danced all night long, had my occasional tequila shots (well-spread out), ate a bit, talked to friends and danced some more.  At first, I danced with a bunch of friends with whom I had danced the days before.  Then, a few hours into the party, I met someone new, a friend of friends, a very studly man who was wearing a red tie which matched my dress perfectly.  We ended up dancing past 6am, what an amazing time, I had a permanent smile on my face.  My feet were killing me, but I refused to take my shoes off.  We kept on dancing with the bride and groom and a few more friends who stayed until the end.  I did run into my ex that night, while wearing “The Red Dress;” I felt invincible, unshakable.  It was the perfect place and time for that reunion.  I got back to my hotel, after sweating for hours, I was a mess…a happy mess!!  My make-up, my hair, my knees, my feet.  I took a long hot shower… 

The story continues….almost a year after that incredible night.  Let’s just say it was a memorable trip, a memorable night...and an unforgettable Red Dress. 

To gift or not to gift

As a little girl, I loved gifts!  Well…who doesn’t? Gifts were the highlight of birthdays, Hanukkah, graduation, etc.  I vividly remember when I was about 8 years old and I was bitten/scratched by a big dog.  It tore my eyelid (I could see the slit in the mirror) and left a big bloody scratch next to my ear.  I had surgery that day, an amazing plastic surgeon worked his magic, stitched my eyelid inside and out, and across the side of my face.  I got very lucky, it was December 26^th, nobody works that week in Cali (Colombia).  The point of the story is that in the following weeks, while my eye was still black, swollen and completely shut, people wanted to visit me.  The condition was that they had to bring me a gift, they were told that over the phone (a bit too direct…oh well, I was 8).  So I got a bunch of great stuff, I loved it!!  It made everything better.

Fast forward to my high school graduation, I remember some of my friends were getting necklaces and earrings from their parents.  All I wanted was for my university to be paid for, I was not interested in any jewelry, perhaps in part because I didn’t care much about jewelry at the time (I always considered myself to be a tomboy).  So that was my graduation gift, the best gift ever, a college education.

With time, I became less and less interested in the “typical” gifts, and became more practical in life.  So I started liking useful and thoughtful gifts, and not necessarily in specific occasions.  One Valentine’s Day, I got a jump rope from my husband (ex now), zero romantic, but until this day I jump rope as part of my workout, all thanks to that non-romantic Valentine’s gift.

Then I had kids, and my opinion towards gifts changed even more.  I saw all the birthday gifts they received, most were forgotten, put aside or broke after 2 days, and only a handful were good, long-lasting, entertaining or educational gifts.  Then there was Hanukkah (my kids are being raised Jewish) and Christmas (my ex is Catholic so the kids also got some Christmas gifts, although not in the same magnitude as most of their Catholic friends).  That was insane, so many gifts, more than they knew what to do with. Then add the stuff we buy when we go shopping, the gifts from grandparents, and so on.  It all got me thinking…

In my case, I got to the realization that I like receiving thoughtful gifts, nothing fancy, just thoughtful; and I don’t necessarily expect gifts anymore, not even on my birthday.  Luckily, I can buy myself what I want, so anything I get is a bonus!  But let’s go back to the kids.  It got me thinking about how we’re spoiling our children, how they’re losing perspective on the value of things, on rewards, on hard work.  So when my son was turning 4, I decided (and my husband supported me) that we were going to have a birthday party for him, but that all, and I mean ALL the gifts would be donated to underprivileged kids.  We explained it to him in the best possible way.  He didn’t seem to mind.  We sent out the invitation, explaining our plan and asking people to bring unwrapped toys and books for kids of all ages.  The party was incredible, there were about 30 kids, a big bounce house, games, food, cake, etc.  Some people brought 2 and 3 gifts to be donated.  We had close to 50 gifts, which were stored in the guestroom.  It was November and we were waiting until December to give them away as part of a Christmas party at a shelter for Haitian immigrants.  For weeks my kids would go in the room and look at the gifts, but it was never an issue, they knew those were the gifts that we were giving the “poor” children.  December came around and we went to the Christmas party to hand them out.  It was incredible to see that from the birthday party of one boy, 50 kids got Christmas gifts.  We kept doing that for 6 years, until we stopped having big birthday parties.  As my kids got older, they started to appreciate and value this great deed even more.  You could tell just by looking at their faces that they were happy knowing that they could help bring joy to someone else.  One time my son told me “it makes me so happy to see all these boys and girls getting gifts.  It’s totally worth it.”  What can I say…it’s priceless!!

Over the years a few parents told me that I was depriving my kids from their birthday gifts.  I can just say that they have learned an invaluable lesson.  I consider it essential to show our kids (with actions) what it means to have social responsibility, and that they can do their part as well.

Our children don’t need any more toys, instead, they need to realize how lucky and privileged they are.  As parents, as adults, I feel we need to do our part in raising children who are aware of the world around them, of the inequality.  We need to raise sensitive, generous kids.  It is our responsibility.