Why don't I believe.......

that the dress will fit?

I bought this dress last Fall......

Today, I am hosting a rather important visitor to campus.  Or so the story goes....
I have to admit, I had no idea how important he was when his associate contacted me several weeks ago to arrange for the visit.  It was just another day at the office doing what I do....
But, as I made plans for the visit with my cohorts across campus....who evidently know more about folks like him.....his importance in the world of technology and financial success and entrepeneurship and all things new and exciting started to take shape.   Soon, I found myself immersed in a world that included dealing with limo drivers and the press and personal assistants and angles of cameras and escorts with certain levels of academic ranking.  Yawn.
Honestly---I felt badly but I didn't find myself  gaga over the fact that I was going to be in the presence of a certain level of  greatness.  I wasn't even excited by the possibility that this was a big coo for me.  Even though several people kept telling me so...
Listen....at this stage of my career, I'm not all that concerned about making a name for myself just because I somehow got involved with bringing this guy to the top tier institution where I have spent well over half my life. I figure he would have found his way there anyway even without me....
 If truth be told---meeting Ringo Starr (and having him sit right outside of my office for well over an hour!) when he came to campus with his wife Barbara Bach's daughter for an admissions interview and seeing Bon Jovi perform right outside my building (and having a perfect view of his cute little ass) during the first Obama campaign---those were good times.  I guess you could say I'm much more smitten with good music and cute rock stars than I am with smart young business guys....
However......
There comes a time when you have to look the part.
You have to pay a certain level of respect.
I owe my career and my campus and our visitor that much--right?
And, the best way I know how to do any of that is with fashion.
What to wear? What to wear?
As I told you---I did a major shoe shopping haul this past weekend.
I figured this was the perfect time to show off a fun pair of Franco Sarto peep-toe booties that were part of my shoesy binge.
We all know that starting with the shoes as inspiration for an outfit can prove to be challenging.
But, I was up for it.
It was the perfect diversion from all the mind boggling work of packing up my son and straightening out utilities and shopping for furniture and  dealing with movers and schedules.....yadda, yadda, yadda
My mind went straight to work....starting with the shoes.
After mulling it over a bit--I remembered a black and white houndstooth A-line dress that I bought last year at H&M.   With a pair of black tights and some fun accessories--it all came together in my head.
The perfect accompaniment to my great new shoes.
I was sold on the whole look.
Until those familiar fat girl thoughts started creeping into my head.
What if the dress doesn't fit?
Fat girl behavior had reared it's ugly head again.
I just hate when that happens.  
The notion that a dress that I bought last year would not fit me this year---yes, it was pure fat Judi thinking.
I come by it honestly--that's for sure.
I've got years worth of stories to prove it.
I couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, some way, that dress would not fit me.
After all---it was a pretty straight cut.
And, it was a Size MEDIUM! 
Damn, why didn't I buy the Size LARGE?
All of a sudden, I found myself mourning the loss of such a cute dress.
I even had myself convinced that the dress would not fit.
Trust me---I had no evidence to back this up.....it was the fear talking.
Slowly, I had to talk myself into trying on the dress.
It took me two days of gripping fear before I could actually do it.   
It was agonizing---so much so that I almost had myself talked into another outfit.
But, the image of how wonderful those shoes would look with that dress gave me the courage I needed to march upstairs and try on the dress.  

Sigh.

It fit.
Let the good times roll.