Yesterday, as I was walking home to my flat from the tram stop, for some reason, I started thinking about something that had happened about a year before. I'd made a call to my EC in the States. I left a huge suitcase full of clothes in his apartment for safekeeping, plus a couple of nice dresses (including my wedding gown) hanging in the closet in his spare room. One of those dresses is a fabulous bronze lame number in size 3 with hundreds of tight little pleats radiating out from the center. I recently saw a photo of Marilyn Monroe wearing the exact same dress in gold lame. It's one of my prize possessions.
When I called him, he mentioned that he had a visitor from out of town... a singer whose acquaintance he had made several years ago, and she had visited a few times before. He'd showed her my copper lame dress, and she'd fallen in love with it. They were... at that very moment... in the middle of shooting a music video... with her wearing my dress!
At first, I was indignant, but he pleaded, and I said,
"Okay, she doesn't have to take it off, but don't give it her. I'm going to want to wear that dress again some day."
So, here I was , yesterday, a year or so later, walking down the street and thinking about how EC had let that singer wear my dress without asking my permission. I was getting worked up about it all over again.
When I got home, I turned the computer on, as I always do, and checked my email. There was an email from EC there, telling me about this new singer he had met. He owns a talent agency, and he's in the process of trying to cut a record deal for her. If she gets it, he's going to play keyboard for her and go on the road with her and her guitar playing husband. He said,
"Kruupie-poi, every woman who sees that gold dress of yours absolutely falls in love with it. XX (the singer) offered to buy it from you. Why don't you go ahead and sell it to her, since I can't fit into it, and you'll never come and get it, and who knows? Maybe she'll even record a music video in it."
I got indignant all over again.. I whipped off an email to him....
"First of all, if you're not convinced of my psychic abilities, check this out.. I was just walking home thinking about the time you let GG wear my dress, and then I come home and read your email about XX wanting to buy it.... EC, stop showing my clothes to people! I still want my dress. Anyway, I never tried on your wedding dress without permission."
We emailed back and forth a bit, because he was still online, and he agreed to stop showing my clothes to his female visitors. But how bizarre is that? I haven't thought about that dress in ages....



