A Dream Rochas Vest Deferred

It was a deep disappointment. The kind that makes your face sour & your heart cold for at least 30 minutes.

The kind you feel when you drop a fresh ice cream cone and you’re a kid and buying another isn’t even a option┬ábecause your mom told you to stop playing around in the first place.

In short, I missed out on buying the perfect pink longline Rochas vest/dress for $250 and I’m really going through it.

I first noticed it on a lunch break run to Century 21, which I do from time to time for inspirational reasons. I admired it, tried it on and convinced myself that it was irresponsible to buy it on the spot without thinking about it first.

Henry the stylist offered to hold it for me, and he’ll always have my respect for that. He sent me a text that day to let me know it’d be on hold for 12 hours. More than enough time to decide.

Sometimes though, a poor sense of time catches up to you. I let a whole weekend pass without going back for it.

But I was still hopeful. Still ready to claim my rightful place as the owner of such a luxurious vest. And when my mom offered to get it for me for Christmas. I was elated. I mean ecstatic. I mean there were at least three shoe options I’d paired it with in my head. I mean I was READY.

So I took another lunch break, trotted to Century 21 in the rain and when I reached right for where I left it, it was gone.

I circled around that same Rochas 50% off rack 5 times. I looked down in between to make sure it hadn’t slumped somewhere in the middle of the rack. I looked in Lanvin’s section, because maybe someone had gotten confused. And then in Marc Jacobs section for the same reason. And then I looked around with a blank stare, mouth open. I walked around aimlessly, hoping I’d catch a glimpse of pink. I asked a lady who looked like the last thing she wanted to do was answer a question if this was the only Rochas section. A question I knew the answer to.

“Yes,” she answered.

Now I sit here, on the train because the unbearable disappointment won’t let me wait until I get home to let these feelings out.

“I think you’re going to find it again, that’s what I think.” Ahh the hope that only a mom can give. That’s what she said when I called to tell her the bad news. “If it’s meant to be it will be.” It’s often hard to tell whether my mother and I are talking about a serious life event or a good pair of wide-legged pants, and that’s just one of the many reasons I love her.

“I’ve been there before, it hurts. But you’ll find something else. Something special,” she assured me. One can only hope.

At the end of the day, I’d almost snagged my favorite piece of the year. But almost doesn’t count.

And to whichever lucky lady got it I have only a few things to say.


How could you?

And you better wear it with the right shoes.

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