The Blue Dress

The top worn by the woman in this video reminds me of a funny incident from back in the day. I was about 21..... dating a bony-ass record company exec. I have maligned in a number of Facebook posts. What I ever saw in him, God only knows.

So anyway, we’d both been invited to a music industry event ... an awards night? Can’t remember.. Who cares. Back then, I worked solely to earn money to buy clothes and makeup, so it was with a fair amount of satisfaction that I had returned from a shopping foray in town that afternoon, with an absolutely, to-die-for, SMASHING blue dress. This was before the Internet...but it was HYPERLINK BLUE. Like....you could see it from space, kinda blue.

Getting dressed...hair/makeup... DING-DING, Dufus at the door. First off, he said I looked great.. what a smashing dress, etc. However as I was going about my business, he fell uncharacteristically quiet..... and I KNEW WHAT WAS COMING.

”You are going to wear a jacket over your dress, aren’t you?”

“Its summer in Perth. People will think I’m mad.”

(Perth, Western Australia is hot as a bastard in summer for those that don’t know.)

”You can’t go out in that dress without a jacket....the sleeves are too low cut.”

”You said it was a smashing dress.”

”That was before I saw the side-view.”

”So don’t look at me from the side.”

I was fed up to the back teeth with his shit. We’d met when I was 19 and he was 21. I’d been so green around the gills.. so in awe of his sophistication, sense of style and British accent. Fast forward two years, he was a pretentious git I couldn’t seem to rid myself of. I broke up with him on a fortnightly basis, but having stepped in relationship excrement.... however much I tried to wipe him off, he lingered.

After one of our numerous breakups, he’d hurled himself from his apartment balcony. Unfortunately it was only 10 feet from the ground, yet he managed to break his arm and boy, did he milk that for months.

Back to the night in question... we continued bickering over my dress, and I eventually picked up a jacket to appease him long enough to get into his car and get going. No intention of wearing it, mind.

He drove us into the city in stony silence, which was fine with me, and I prayed he wouldn’t start running his mouth again.... but alas, as we approached the venue....

“You should put your jacket on now.”

“No.”

“Put it on.”

”Its 9pm and 38 degrees.”

“PUT IT ON!”

“NO!!”

We continued in this manner, volume rising, as he circled the block looking for a car spot, and then he did something which threw a can of kero on the fire. The mthrfkr turned the car around and started driving me home! I made a show of protesting, but in truth I was thinking....dumbass... I’ll drive myself to the party.

He stopped outside my apartment. I jumped out, ran inside for my keys.... emerged a couple of minutes later, sans jacket, and walked towards my car.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“F*ck off.”

“I’ve got our tickets and you’re not having one,” he lied. There were no tickets.

“My name is on the door list, dickhead.”

I started my car, but as I tried to reverse out onto the road, he pulled in behind me, blocking my way.

“MOVE YOUR CAR, *RSEHOLE!!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA....” He laughed back, like a tall, ugly girl.

I knew from experience he would keep up this bullshit for hours, so seizing my chance, I jumped out of my car and ran to the street where, as fate provided there was a taxi approaching! 😃

“WHOOHOO!! SUCKS TO BE YOU, MTHRFKR!!” I yelled, with accompanying hand gesture as we screeched away from the curb.

He tailed us on the Mitchell Freeway, all the way into town, while I relayed the sorry tale to my driver... a dead ringer for Travis Bickle.

“Hey. Are you looking at me? ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME??” I laughed in my best De Niro. We both agreed I did that very well 😃

“You want me to f*ck him up?” he asked.

“What?”

“Coz I can make a call... “

“No no... that won’t be necessary.” I was, afterall, still a humanitarian.

The fool was STILL behind us, still squealing like a pig as the cab pulled up outside the club.

“HAVE FUN FINDING A CAR SPOT NOW, *RSEHOLE!!” I yelled as I bolted inside, where my Rabid Partay-Posse (RPP)were waiting.

————————

“Where you been, biatch??”

“Biatch, if you only knew!”

Needless to say, a huge time was had by all. It was so packed, I had no idea if he’d made it inside or not.. and couldn’t care less. After a couple of hours we bounced to the other side of town to my favourite R n’ B club, Jules... where the RPP danced and danced till daybreak in our new dresses and sunglasses.