So this is what happens when someone (in this case: the IRS) gives me money:
I buy this goddamn ridiculous thing on eBay. It has both the Space Needle AND a map of the Seattle Center on it, for chrissakes. It is at once a Seattle thing, a piece of Seattle World’s Fair memorabilia, and a map. AND A DRESS, WHICH I HAPPEN TO COLLECT. EXAMPLES OF. My hand was forced. Plus I saw the same dress on Etsy a couple years ago for $1000, in a size 2, so it seemed like a deal at $[redacted] and in a size [that I can actually wear].
Agh, and the demure little sleeves kill me. And the Space Needle corona peeking down from the neckline. Hystellarious. I die, I die.
The buyer came over to deliver it tonight, along with a 6-page appraisal and history of the dress. In the doc, the appraiser pointed out that the Pacific Science Center arches are conspicuously absent from the pattern (a fact that I’m sure I would have noticed eventually, ahem) and he wonders if the designer used one of the early blueprints of the Seattle World’s Fair from 1959-1961, before the arches were conceived of. So he theorized, therefore, that it was made before the World’s Fair in ’62, which is important, because if it were made in, like, 1988, that would cut a big chunk out of its value. And we know it wasn’t, because so-and-so would definitely have stuck the very definitive, non-negotiable Science Center arches in there. So s/he must have not known they would exist when s/he made it. Very clever, Professor Moriarty.
My boyfriend was like, “When will you wear it?” and I said at our wedding, and you can dress up like New York City, which is where he is from, sort of. I’m not sure what that would entail. A Chrysler building hat? A Statue of Liberty crown? Stinking rags and a overloaded shopping cart?
(We are neither engaged to be married nor planning a wedding. To be clear. I was going to try to get away with not putting a disclaimer here because it’s funnier to not have to explain your jokes, but you know how people are, and the Internet is forever, so: Joke alert.)
The dress is museum-quality, and the document said that both MOHAI and the Seattle Center Foundation had expressed interest in displaying it, so now I’m terrified to even take it out of the bag, much less risk its ruin by trying to stretch it around my gigantic ass. (Waist, really). That appraisal doc was really something; it was written more like an essay or an op-ed than a fact sheet. I was all hushed and emotional by the time I finished reading. “Gee, I don’t know, maybe I should contact Antiques Roadshow about this? What if I’m sitting on a goldmine here! My god.”
Shut up. It’s amazing. I’m great. Whatever you say, I’m still great.