There needs to be a person in every retail clothing store whose job is to give honest opinions about the clothes that customers are trying on. Not a sales person, because you could try on a burlap bag and they would swear that it looks fantastic on you and is so this season. No, it needs to be a person who can fill in for a girlfriend when you're shopping alone, someone who will tell you honestly, "You're wearing a fucking burlap bag, do you realize that? No, no, NO."

Rob's company holiday party is this evening, and a few days ago I went shopping for something to wear. I had in mind exactly what I wanted, which is never a good idea because of course I never ever find it. There are things that closely approximate what I'm looking for, but I'll pass those over in hopes that I'll find an exact replica of the picture in my head, as if I'm certain that some designer out there somewhere can read my mind. And maybe she can, but considering that I refuse to spend more than $40 on any article of clothing, I probably can't afford her anyway.

This time, what I was looking for was a dress...and that is a phrase I hardly ever say. There are only three occasions for which I've shopped for dresses: prom, weddings (only ones I'm in), and Easter (when I was a kid). I don't do dresses; I'm a pants person. Cute stylish pants, but pants. I like my legs, but I'm shy about showing them. Plus, dresses feel too open. The air swirls around inside the skirt and suddenly I'm aware of a vortex of air heading for my vajayjay. And that's just not right. Wind chill factor, hello!

But recently I've decided I should reconsider this stance. There's a woman I work with who often wears skirts and she always looks adorable in them, and I've realized that I'm overlooking a whole category of cute fashion opportunities. So, I went in search of a dress for this event. A dark red sweater dress (thin and flowy, not bulky and body-hugging) with longish sleeves and cut just above the knee.

And? I totally found it! That has never happened before. I was just browsing around Target, not finding anything, and then WHAM! There it was, what I was looking for! Except they only had one left. And it was an XS. I am not an XS. I am small, but I'm also tall, and thus my total square footage does not easily fit within the confines of XS. But it was the only one left, and it was otherwise perfect. What choice did I have?! So I tried it on.

And here is where I needed the advice of an impartial person, preferably someone not on commission or over the age of 65. Of which there were none. The dress actually fit great. Except it was short. Too short. Or maybe not, I couldn't tell. I thought it was too short, but then I realized that seeing even an inch of bare skin above my knee would have been shocking to me, given that I never wear stuff like this. So I decided that it was actually pretty hot. But then I remembered the Dressing Room Lighting Effect, of which I've been a victim before. You can look like a fucking supermodel at the store, but when you put the outfit on at home and look in the mirror, you think there must be some mistake because this is not what you looked like! And then you realize that the dressing room must have had Tyra Banks painted on the mirror, wearing the outfit you were trying on, and you totally thought that was YOU. And now don't you feel stupid? And frumpy.

In high school one of the dress code rules stated that our shorts had to reach past our fingertips when we stood with our arms down by our side. This dress met that guideline, so I concluded that if I would be allowed to wear this around hormonal, sexually-frustrated teenage boys, then how bad could it be? Plus, with black tights and knee boots, there will be no skin and very little leg revealed. That makes up for the fact that a little of my ass cheek hangs out, right? Maybe?

I bought it. And I am planning to wear it tonight, although I may put it on this evening, take one look in the mirror, and totally chicken out. Of course, Rob will be no help giving an accurate opinion, because husbands aren't exactly the best people to consult when wondering whether you're too scantily clad. Too scantily clad? they think. IS THERE SUCH A THING?

Yes, in fact, there is. It's a fine line between sexy and slutty, a line I'll gingerly be walking tonight as I try to ignore the breeze blowing between my legs.