OI YOU! YES, YOU! BUY ME NEW MATERNITY CLOTHES PWEZ!

I now know how it feels like to be a dangerously deranged person strap in a straightjacket. It’s scary. It’s suffocating. It’s like there’s a herd of zombies at your door and you have no way to escape except gnawing your own arms and pretend you’re one of them. But in my case, I wanted to gnaw my own dress off my body.

You see, today I had the craziest wardrobe malfunction ever; I couldn’t take this dress off.

I was literally STUCK.


When I first put it on in the morning, all was peachy. It fits me nicely and I went to work. Then I noticed that getting in and out of the car was a struggle and I kept flashing my panties to the world whenever I step out of the car. The dress was getting mighty tight. Seriously, tight. I am getting bigger and rounder and even my size LARGE dress no longer fit me.

So at lunch time I went home, went to my dressing room and started to strip. At first, I lifted the dress to take it off from my head. But it got stuck at my chest. What. The…?

I put it back on and tried to reach for the zip at the back. I couldn’t reach it. Huh? I KNOW I’ve gotten FAT but shrinking hands? I had to stretch my right hand to my back hoping my hand would suddenly lengthen itself and reach the zip and guess what? THERE IS NO ZIPPER AT THE BACK!!!!! How am I going to get out of this dress!!!

I can’t tear the bloody thing! The dress cost me RM180 for crying out loud! RM180 may means nothing to you but it’s A LOT OF MONEY TO ME!

So I tried the first method again; lift the dress up and get it off upwards.

That was when the zombie thought went into my head. I got stuck. Stuck like an obese mouse in a tight narrow pipe. With both of my hands up, I was frantically struggling to get the dress to pass through my chest and I tried everything; jumping, pulling, tugging, screaming like a psychopath on a murdering rampage, you name it.

I was seriously in tears! My dress was on my chest, both hands flailing above my head, my belly was protruding glaringly and I had my granny underwear on (I know it’s called maternity underwear but it looks more like a granny’s underwear than not so shut it!) and HELL NO AM I GOING OUTSIDE SCREAMING FOR HELP IN THAT CRAZY CONDITION! I RATHER DIE!

Then miraculously, I managed to calm the hell down. I sat on the sofa, inhaled and exhaled and slowly pulled the dress down. It had to be done slowly coz the dress was AS I SAID EARLIER ON- REALLY EXPENSIVE and I was not about to tear NOT A THREAD on that dress which scarily was starting to constrain my breathing. YES, IT WAS THAT TIGHT WHAT WAS I THINKING WHEN I PUT IT ON THIS MORNING GOD KNOWS! I managed to put it back on my body without any harm done. I decided to just go to work with that torturing device people called FASHION on and decide later how to get the F**K out of it.


 

So yeah I didn’t manage to take it off but at least I survived the straightjacket experience.

I went back to the office and told the story to my colleague. She inspected my dress and said, “The zipper is on the left side of the dress lah Balqiz”

Yes, the idiot has been unleashed and she’s pregnant. Beware.