Today was supposed to be simple. I bought the prettiest new dress — this soft blue bohemian one with all the delicate laces up the front. It looked so easy when I tried it on in the store, but when I got home and tried to lace it up properly… everything went wrong.
The ribbons kept slipping through my fingers. I was standing in front of my mirror in just the dress (half laced), trying to pull the strings tight enough so it would sit right. Every time I tugged, the fabric would shift, and the laces would loosen again. I kept having to start over, sliding my hands down the front, adjusting, pulling, wiggling… it was taking forever.
My arms started getting tired from reaching behind my back and then forward again. The ribbons were so smooth and silky that they kept sliding through my fingers when I tried to make the bows. I was biting my lip, getting more and more frustrated, when I heard a soft knock on my door.
It was Mr. Vale — my neighbor from downstairs. He said he heard me struggling and wanted to make sure everything was okay. I opened the door still half-laced, cheeks pink, breathing a little faster than normal.
He looked at the ribbons and smiled that calm, knowing smile of his.
“You’re pulling too hard, Arielle. You have to be gentler… ease them through slowly. Let them slide naturally instead of fighting it.”
I swear my face went from pink to bright red. I told him I was fine and could figure it out, but he stepped inside anyway and offered to help. His hands were so steady compared to mine. He stood behind me, reaching around to guide the ribbons through the loops. Every time he pulled them snug, I could feel the dress tightening around my ribs and waist. He told me to hold still while he worked lower, his voice low and patient.
“Nice and slow… there you go. See? It fits better when you don’t rush it.”
I barely breathed the whole time. When he finally tied the last bow, he stepped back and looked at me in the mirror. I mumbled a thank you, but my voice came out softer than I meant it to. He just smiled and said I looked beautiful, then left like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I stood there for a long time after he was gone, running my fingers over the perfectly laced ribbons, feeling how snug and pretty the dress looked now.
Why does something as simple as tying ribbons make my stomach feel all fluttery?
I’m going to pretend it was just because I held my breath too long.
…Maybe I’ll wear this dress again tomorrow. Just in case I need help adjusting it.
Arielle