I don’t wanna grow up

Tailor

If you want to feel good on a lousy day, pull up an old album with pictures from when you looked like you were choking on a bone while wearing your grandma’s drapes. “Wow didn’t I turn into a butterfly!” you think….see it works every time. Better yet, look at your siblings and then get them on the phone to make fun of how dorky they looked back then.

Thanks to a 10/10 tailor shop called “Perfact Darzi” (Perfect Tailor) owned by a 100 year old guy, we wore dresses that lasted 10 years. At the awkward age of 11 when store bought frocks stopped fitting, my mother started insisting I should wear tailor-made dresses. “But I don’t wanna grow up” I scream. She dragged me to Parfact Darzi anyway.

Now for the nightmare. Time for the fitting. The tailor brought his tape and asked me to stand straight with my arms raised. I cursed him in my mind. There were 10 other people gawking at me from the shop front. He hastily read out some measures to his assistant. He was not supposed to touch me so the inches he read were off by 2. The skirt was 4 inches below the knee. “I want it shorter” I yell. “No baby girl, good girls must wear this long” he calmly retorts. The cloth that was turning into my dress was a piece of 100 yard wallpaper print fabric that is going to be shared by all my siblings and cousins. And it gets better- we will take a family photograph that I will look at after 20 years and get a good laugh.

Hey at least the 2 inches plus on the bust line was flattering for the benefit of the audience at the tailor shop.

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