my demendante dress

I can't see polka dots today without being reminded of my

Demendante dress. Do you ever name your clothes? Well, I did,

and still do. This particular dress happened to be one of my very

favorites in high school. It was a wonderful little silky nylon navy

blue number with white polka dots, complete with an elastic mesh

waist, and elastic at the scoop neck, and sleeves. Very '70s. Very chic.

Mrs. Demendante was a little old woman (gosh, now that I think

about it, she was most likely the age I am now; funny how that

happens) who attended my family's church. My sister and I would

wait until the very last minute, before the organ prelude finished, to

dash in and grab a seat that was anywhere, but directly in front of

Mrs. Demendante. You see, this dear woman had the most annoying

habit of slurping her dentures through the entire service, and for

some odd reason, she enjoyed finding a spot in the pew directly

behind my sister and me. We would start out giggling, but by the

time the preacher was finished, we would be gagging like hell, and

not from the fiery sermon, either.

Well, one fine Sunday morning, I happened to be wearing my oh-so-

classy polka dot dress, feeling like a million bucks, when we slipped

in at the last minute; no Demendante in sight. Just as the prelude

ended, the dear missing woman appeared right next to me, in the

same pew, wearing my navy polka dot dress, only about 16 sizes

larger. We were now Bobbsey twins, separated only by age and

size.

.

And you know what? It turned out to be her favorite dress, as well.

For some uncanny reason, we would choose to wear it on the same

Sundays, and greet each other with wry little smiles.

.

That, my friends, is how my favorite polka dot dress came to be

known as "Demendante".

photo: my favorite polka dot Boleslawiec mug