You clapped! You clapped!
You clapped and it worked!
Thank you!
If you recall, I found the perfect dress for my daughter’s Bat Mitzvah only to open the box upon arrival and find enclosed the wrong item. Worsened more by the glaring “sold out” sign on the website that pierced my eyes as I gasped for air.
There were tears. There was yelling. There was asking to speak to someone’s manager.
Since it was the holiday season, I asked everyone to clap to help me believe. I would find this dress.
Your clapping worked! This angel got her wings – or better yet, HER DRESS!
I can’t believe it; I have the dress.
I have the dress and it is GORGEOUS and perfect. It fits and looks even better than I imagined. It doesn’t need an inch of alteration.
But the story of how it happened is even better.
In an ironic twist, the moment my last article went up, I received an email from the store telling me how “hard” they tried but they just couldn’t find the dress. Sorry. Life stinks. We tried hard, chin up. I’m a man, I don’t understand how hard it is to find the perfect dress. Yadda Yadda.
Noooo. But it was the dress. It was my dress. Don’t you see, man? I wouldn’t even need to get a new bra. This was a unicorn, this was perfection. This was MY dress. I could never find a good dress, and this was the winner.
Don’t you see, Mr. Customer Service Manager? I was sitting on my couch upset thinking no, you do not see, and I do not accept this verdict.
There must be a way to find this dress. I mean – it’s not like I was searching for triple white Jordans from 2020. This was a current dress in a current color. I did not accept that it vaporized. I did not accept it was over. I believed it could be found.
Furthermore, if you can’t believe in miracles during the holiday season, what good are you?
I started singing “You Will Be Found” from Dear Evan Hansen, with the added verse, “Dear fancy department store customer service manager… You may not understand the rage and perseverance of a mother trying to find a dress for her daughter’s Bat Mitzvah.”
Yeah, he didn’t care.
So, I decided to take out the unnecessary and useless “middleman” and start searching for a way to get to the brand (speaking of, maybe if it was a middle WOman, she would have felt my pain and tried harder).
I am a woman who roars. I’m taking this into my own hands.
It’s Hammer Time. Mama’s taking over the reins. You Can’t Touch This.
I search and I search.
Clap Clap Clap
I think – what would Cher Horowitz do? What would Kelly Taylor do? What would Jessie Spano do? Then it comes to me. Much like these trailblazing women I have resources. I’m a blogger and I work with brands all day. I must be able to get to this company somehow.
Clap Clap
It worked. You believed. I believed. I’d like to think if the above pioneering feminist icons were actual, real people, they too would have believed.
I found the brand. I found the correct contact person- my Clarence, my angel.
The clapping got all the way to Manhattan, then bounced to Seattle, and finally to a warehouse in Los Angeles where someone, somewhere FOUND MY DRESS!
Not only did they find it, but they went above and beyond to get me the right size. They were beyond amazing to deal with, not to mention they loved the concept that they were summoned by clapping.
The dress arrived and it was just perfect. It WAS actually in the box this time.
I’m so grateful that Chanukah is eight nights long. I have the dress,I have the story. Now I just need… the shoes. Because let’s be honest… It takes a miracle to find comfortable (and cute) shoes!
Ugh, but that’s another post.
Keep clapping.
KEEP CLAPPING!
Stacey Wallenstein is the founder of the parenting & lifestyle blog The Mint Chip Mama. Visit her website at themintchipmama.com and find her across all socials at @themintchipmama
