Thursday, July 8, 2010

The Black Velvet Dress

Have you heard the story of the BLACK VELVET DRESS? Hmmm, it's a good one. A bit long, so hang with me.

In the summer of 2003 I interned at Texas Scottish Rite Hospital for Children. The internship was in their Community Relations Department, and I loved it. I loved every second of it, actually. I had really hoped to get a job there after college. Didn't pan out, which all worked out for the best, but that's a whole other story.

That summer I worked on their fall fundraiser and auction: Treasure Street. It was such
an elaborate and lavish soiree. It took place on the hospital's lawn and was a magical affair. There were clear, bubble lights placed high-up in the trees. There was fantastic food served butler style with pretty cocktails to sip. The auction items were placed throughout the lawn for viewing pleasure. Everything from cars, to big, beautiful beds outfitted in elegant, silk linens. The music was playing in the background and it was a night that was like a fairytale of fun for adults.

Since I had interned there during the summer working hard on the logistics of this event, Clint and I were invited to attend as guests. Wow, this was my very first taste of the Dallas high-life. {Not sure I've tasted it since, but it sure was nice that night!}

I came home from college to take Clint as my date. I believe it was the Thursday of OU/Texas weekend, so the timing was perfect. I was on the 4.5 year plan, so Bevo Date Party had ceased. We dressed in our finest and rolled to the party like we had business being there.

I had my eye on a picture from the day it was brought in as an auction item. It's a photograph of a Tuscan Villa. The ears of corn are hanging to dry. I simply love it. It's moved from my living room to now in my kitchen, but I think it will always be in my home. It's happy.

Terrible picture using Clint's phone

Clint said I could place a bid, but if we were outbid then it wasn't meant to be. Little did I know he waited it out until the end to ensure he got that picture for me. It was my Christmas gift that year. It's a treasure.

In the meantime of all this silent auction biding, I took it upon my champagne-logged-self to bid on a little girl's black velvet dress. Not to worry, size 5. I didn't know a soul with a little girl. No little girls in my family at the time. I didn't babysit any little girls. I had zero purpose for this dress. Well, I won the auction. I was the new owner of a black velvet dress, size 5.

I had no idea at the time that Clint had just purchased my engagement ring and booked our New Year's Eve trip to New York. I was buying useless black velvet dresses. I was in college, I didn't have any money. Clint was 26 and had a smidge, but not enough to be buying little girl dresses.

So the night ends with a fabulous, framed photograph that I love and a black velvet dress. I'm sure Clint was sweating all the way home trying to figure out how in the world he was ever going to afford a ring, a trip and these unnecessary treasures.

The joke has been ongoing for years about this dress. I swore I'd give it to my first friend that had a girl. That was Kelsey and sorry, Paige....I just couldn't part with the dress. It hung in my closet for years and now resides in storage with a lot of our belongings. I don't have the actual picture of it, but it resembles this.

I called Clint in the middle of the day a couple of weeks ago and screamed, "We have a use for the black velvet dress!!!!" He laughed and decided maybe Julia can wear it for Christmas 2015. Thank goodness it's a classic piece of clothing, which now probably has moth holes. Come hell or high water she's wearing that dress.

Do you have a black velvet dress? Maybe not something for the hopes of a child, but maybe a wedding? Jules just got a onesie with Bono's face on it from U2. Aunt Meredith said she might have to order the same and it would be her black velvet dress. I like it!

Sadly, this isn't the only thing I have bought for a little girl. I also purchased a beautiful lace hankerchief in Burano, Italy outside of Venice. Does this make me a psycho? Probably, but we can always dream.


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