Rosie's F***ing Fashions

My lovely sister-in-law and I went on the annual mission to find Mardi Gras gowns this past Saturday.  I've always had trouble finding a dress that doesn't make me feel like a glittery jewel encrusted manatee.  Mostly because I have giant boobs and currently I'm just giant everywhere. Add to that the fact that I'm incredibly cheap and hormonally imbalanced and we have a disaster waiting to happen. 

We started our quest at the mall.  Penny's first.  They had about 16 different dresses.  NONE bigger than an 8.  NONE. We high tailed it out of there and headed to Dillards.  Didn't even waste time in Belk since they never have anything for under 200 bucks.  We get to Dillards, and they have a bunch of dresses, but they are all tiny.  There were MAYBE six size 10's and two size 12's.  All those went in the fitting room with us.  Kristy had ONE dress that wasn't damaged in some way.  A snag, busted seams, big ass hole, broken zippers or ripped stitching that resulted in loose or missing sequins and gems.  She bought that dress. Both of the one's I tried on were damaged AND showed off my beautiful back fat. WinWin.

We popped in Cache on our way to Sears.  Nothing under 200.  Sears didn't have ONE dress. NOT ONE.  They just didn't get any in.  Neither location.  Ridiculous.  Which sucks because I can usually find something there.  Oh well.  So even though Kristy isn't ecstatic about her selection, at least she has a dress, but we continue on in the hopes I will find something as well. 

We stop at Jovi's.  Walked in and walked out.  Nothing under 250.  Then we headed down to Puttin' on the Ritz.  Ha.  After we FINALLY were able to park, the wait to try anything on was 30 minutes and there wasn't anything in there that we really liked.  This brings us to Rosie's. 

Rosie's F***ing Fashions.  I've been there before.  Several times.  Never actually bought a dress there so I don't know WHY I tried again.  Desperation perhaps. We walk in and the first thing we see is this little woman all in black, clearly a saleslady, and she wants to know what size we wear immediately.  This pisses me off right out the gate because first of all, none of your g** d*** business and second of all, I HATE being accosted as soon as I go in somewhere.  Let me just look around for a minute and if I have a question, I will find YOU.

We told her we were looking for ball gowns and I said I knew where the 12's were.  "Well what size do you normally wear in clothes."  Um...anywhere from a 10-14 depending on the store, section, article of clothing or brand.  "Well you should start in the 14's and go up"  I don't wear a 14 in dresses and certainly not a 16.  I wear a 12.  I dress me every day AND I've been trying on BALL GOWNS all day. I know what I'm looking for.  So she starts in on Kristy and I think that convo went about the same way. I had moved on to the fat girl rack so the saleswhore would leave me alone. 

So we start sifting through all these dresses.  Kristy picks out one and a sales lady immediately takes it from her to 'start a room'.  Fine.  It's a bitch to cart one around and move those heavy ass plastic dress bags anyway.  So I pick out 2 dresses, one a 14 and one a 12, just so I can fuck with the sales lady's 'expertise'.  Kristy grabs 2 more and we start to make our way to the dressing room when another sales women stops us.  She looks at Kristy "What size do you wear?"  Kristy, clearly exasperated with these fucking nazis, reply's with "A 9/10."  The sales lady looks at the gorgeous pink dress Kristy has in her hands and says "Well what size is that?"  The bitch hasn't even started in on me yet and I'm ready to smack her.  Kristy says it's an 11. Snotty asshole sales lady's reply after glaring at Kristy and looking her up and down, "Well, it MIGHT fit you.  Those are cut small."  Basically "Um, you are CLEARLY to fat for that."  RUDE C***.  So Kristy and I give each other 'the look' and make our way to the fitting area. 

This place was packed.  Of course.  It's Mardi Gras in Mobile and nobody else sure as shit has much of a selection so every other exasperated woman has flocked to Rosies.  God bless our souls.

This is where this place REALLY gets irritating.  Now, I've seen the damage women do to dresses trying to squeeze into ones that are clearly to small.  They get deodorant and make up on the dresses and rip them with rings and earrings.  They are generally careless bitches but not everybody is like that and I don't appreciate being treated as such. 

So we are standing at the fitting entrance just taking in the madness that is going on.  They take the dresses from us, hang them up on a rack in the entrance so they can get them out of the plastic bags and unzipped.  We aren't allowed to do that apparently.  Then the Nazi dress lady takes a look at my selections and proceeds to ask me what balls I'm going to.  I tell her the Merry Mates and the Inca's.  She says "Oh well you can't wear this dress to the Inca's." and starts to put it back on the rack. I stopped her and said "That may be the case, but I CAN wear it to the Merry Mates."  The dress had a slit to the knee but it still covered the ankles and went to the floor.  I've been to countless Mardi Gras Balls.  I KNOW what the fuck I can and cannot wear.  She still argues with me "But you can't wear it to the Inca's."  "I can, but even if I CAN'T, I have another dress I can wear to the Inca's." "Well, why don't you try something you can wear to both"  BITCH.  This is where I start to get pissed.  If I want to buy that motherfucking thing to wear to the FLEA MARKET that's MY FUCKING PEROGATIVE!!!  I said, through gritted teeth, that I was trying it on....put it in a room. She rolls her eyes and FINALLY does what I, the paying customer, ask of her.  Meanwhile, there is this OTHER Nazi who is looking at all the dresses that are waiting to be tried on and noticing that "MOTHER OF GOD!  THE ZIPPERS ARE CLOSED!  WHO IS LETTING PEOPLE UNZIP THE DRESSES THEMSELVES??? IF YOU FIND OUT OR SEE THEM, BREAK THEIR ARMS!"  No shit.  This trick said that in front of customers. AMAZING.  So I FINALLY make it to a fitting room and this woman, the arm breaking one, tells me to take off all my rings, earrings, bracelets and watches.  Fine.  I only had on my wedding rings but I obliged and put them in my purse.  Then she tells me to let her know when it's time to zip....because I'm not allowed to do that.  Not 'if you need help with the zipper, let me know' in a helpful type way, but 'I will break your arm if you so much as lay a finger on that zipper'.  Grrr.  Fine.  Then the final straw, she points to this....shower cap thing.....that USED to be white but is now the color of a baby wipe after it has been used on a shitty ass and proceeds to tell me to put that over my face if I have on mascara.  Bitch. You. Are. Tripping.  I will NOT put that nasty germy shit on my face.  God knows how many greasy, herpes ridden faces it has been on and MINE will not be one.  Fuck you.  So I pull on dress one.  Call her to zip it.  She does.  I didn't like it.  It fit (a 12.  Suck it fancy you dress Nazi whore).  But it wasn't flattering and the look on my face said so.  Zipper lady didn't even wait for me to say anything or give me a chance to see the back.  "Yeeeaaahhh....we'll just take this one off."  And unzips it.  What the fuck????  I like honesty, but I didn't ask for her opinion.  So I take that one off and hand it to her to hang up and ZIP, and pull on the other one.  She comes in to ZIP it.  It's very pretty, but too big (size 14....ME-2, size Nazi -0...keep sucking it fancy)  Before I can even make a peep she say's "I don't like this band on the waist." and unzips it.  I just couldn't continue.  I tore that shit off of me, threw it out of the room, put on my clothes and jewelry and stormed the fuck out of there. 

I asked Kristy how her dresses worked and she just kinda wrinkled her nose.  That size Nazi was hovering about so I made a point to inquire about the pink one that there was NO WAY HER FAT ENORMOUS ASS COULD SQUEEZE IN.  She said, thankfully loud enough for the saleswench to hear "It was too big"  We left.  That was THE most awful dress fitting experience of my life.  And I've only been skinny for ONE of my 27 years and that year I didn't EVEN GO TO MARDI GRAS.  That is saying something folks.  That many years of trying to dress this body in a skinny bitches world and THESE ASSHOLES were able to trump EVERY crying spell/emotional breakdown I've EVER had in a dressing room.  Amazing. They should get a plaque from the city for that. Or a citation. 

I was so mad I posted a rant on Facebook immediately and low and behold, SEVEN ladies commented on that post and EVERY ONE OF THEM had something nasty to say about Rosie's.  How is this place still in business??  They could have the perfect dress marked down to $5 and I wouldn't give them a DIME.  Period. Ever. And that will be easy since I WILL NEVER go back there. Madness.  SHEER madness. I felt like Pretty Woman trying to shop on Rodeo Drive except I'm just fat and not an obvious hooker.  One friend even commented that they were racist towards here.  I don't doubt it one bit. 

Thank God the lovely ladies at Rave Review consignment redeemed my faith in sales people.  They were so nice and accommodating and didn't hover.  It was wonderful. I urge all of you to check that place out sometime. The head lady who appears to own/run the place is probably my new favorite person.  I wish I could adopt her.  She was awesome. And every year for the rest of forever, that will be the first place I take my business come gown season.  God bless them.  I even found a dress there.  One that I love.  For below my budget.  Oh happy day.

If any of you have yet to buy your dress this year, I hope you are rich and thin or get to Rave Review before it gets picked over.  Otherwise, God bless you. Skip breakfast and take a prozac before you leave the house.  Or just get a friend to drive you and bring a  fully loaded flask and some kleenex. You're gonna need it.