These hips don't lie.

I have been on the hunt for a dress in preparation of the bridal shower my aunts are hosting in Mexico next month. It's been a bit of a struggle since stores have been phasing out their winter fashion and the new spring lines haven't really captured what I had in mind. It wasn't until this afternoon that I found the perfect dress: it was within the budget I'd mentally set. It had the sweet, elegant, feminine lines I was envisioning and best of all, I felt like a million bucks in it.

This evening, I came home eager to show the dress off to my mom. I slipped into my necessary undergarments and carefully attempted to step into the dress ready to walk the "Roxana Runway". But, there was a glitch. In the store I had been able to step in and easily coax it to zip. In my room, it was a completely different story. 

For starters, there was no way I was going to be able to pull it up over my hips without busting a seam. Instead I slipped it over my head and had to gently/frustratingly tug it down in place. As I huffed and puffed, I attempted to snap the hook on the side so as to begin the upward journey of the zipper. The fabric refused to come together. After one more attempt, I stopped and frowned: there was no way the dress I had just tried on hours before did not fit. Or could it? I was beginning to regret my three slices of margherita pizza and chocolate truffle cupcake earlier that afternoon...


In a sweat, I hurriedly untangled myself from within the tight confines of the dress and almost hurled it across the room. Before succumbing to a tantrum, I took a deep breath and angrily looked at the size label stitched inside the dress-

Somehow the girls at the store had taken the dress I had in the dressing room and mixed it up with a zero! As realization (and relief) dawned, I realized two things: 

One, somehow I managed to squeeze myself into a zero. A feat I am oddly proud of. That I was unable to zip it up is not an issue I want to contemplate. Allow me my small victory of unbusted seams, please.


Two, the panic that settled in the moment the dress did not close has me all the more determined to hit hot yoga and hit it hard. I know a size 0 is a size I can never aspire to (hello Latin curves!) The cupcake and pizza were absolutely delicious (and something I will never deny myself) but it was a reminder that I cannot let myself lax into overindulgence either. 

As for the lovely lilac dress, tomorrow she and I are headed back to the Galleria where we will part ways so that I can bring home the proper size.