I'm so not 21 anymore

I am in need of a dress for Saturday, a daytime wedding kind of dress. As my mother warned me on my way into the mall, nobody sells dresses anymore. And it's true: despite the fact that my closet is still full of aging rayon floral Old Navy and Gap dresses circa 1996, there is very little currently available beyond the high school formal category. I did spy one promising number in Forever 21: a black knee-length shirtdress that actually didn't have a plunging neckline. I figured I could dress it up with a bit of jewelry. Once the dress was on, I finally realized why such a seemingly conservative dress had made it past the Forever 21 buyers: the buttons down the front stopped about six inches from the waist, leaving a slit of an alarming length.

I suppose my first clue should have been that the store is not called Forever 26. They should start reverse-carding people: "Just head down to Talbot's. There's nothing for you here."

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