I went to the mall yesterday with Lauren, my best friend, for the purpose of getting outfits to wear to our girlfriend's engagement party next weekend. That was the task at hand. I accomplished it in less than a half an hour but Lauren was not as decisive. So we took a gander in Lord and Taylor.

I must first describe what I looked like yesterday. In the simplest term, a hood rat. I had my jeans rolled up to accommodate my pink Uggs and a silk scarf tied around my head to cover up the fact that my hair sucked yesterday. So I felt pretty crappy walking into the fancy department store. Plus I was holding a coffee in my hand and you are really not supposed to bring beverages around the designer clothing so I was getting snotty looks. Basically, I was Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when Edward sends her shopping in Beverly Hills and the sales girls on Rodeo Drive are bitches to her.

Okay - sorry for the tangent. So at this point we are supposed to be finding an outfit for Lauren but I am way too distracted by all the shiny, lovely dresses. Then, as if there was a heavenly light streaming down from above, my eyes fell on this adorable black and white Jessica McClintock confection in my size. I pulled it out of the rack and literally my heart began racing.

I turned it slowly in midair to examine the exquisite details - the lace overlay, the crinoline, the satin sash. I walked it over to Lauren and said to her "This looks like something Victoria Beckham would wear!". She looked up from the rack, eyed the dress for a second and then went back to the rack of clothing again. "Ass, it looks like something YOU would wear."

I decided to help her find something, feeling guilty over looking for myself when I had already bought my party outfit. So we grabbed a few dresses for her and looked for the fitting room when I realized I was still holding my perfect dress. Why is it still in my hand?, I wondered. I brought it into the fitting room just to see what it looked like on. I had no intention of buying it. It was $210.

I stared at the dress in the mirror. I had never been so in love with fabric in my life. "LAUREN YOU CAN NOT BELIEVE HOW FREAKIN CUTE I AM!!" I screamed over the top of the fitting room wall.

I danced out into the narrow hallway and demanded that she open her door. She gasped at the sight of the dress. "Oh my God, you look like a ballerina!" she exclaimed. I did. I looked like a New York City Ballet principal in this dress.

With that thought, I pirouetted and jeted around the fitting room. I twirled my way outside and stood on the pedestal in front of the three way mirror, pretending to be a music box dancer. I even stayed there for a minute to let passersby coo over the dress.

Then I had to come crashing back to reality. The $210 reality. Reluctantly, I took the dress off and put it back on the hanger. I looked at the tag again. What? $104? Did I miss something? Now I had a real decision to make. I was in love with the dress. But I had absolutely no place to wear it. But it was 50% off.

I carried it with me around the store for a little while, mulling over the options in my head. The only wedding I have coming up is the one following the engagement party that I was in the mall buying an outfit for in the first place. And I am a bridesmaid so my dress is chosen already. I don't have New Year's Eve plans yet and if I make them, I am sure they will involve juke boxes and warm nuts, not cocktail dresses. And I have no immediate plans to meet the royals.

But I am IN LOVE with the damn dress and it is half off.

As I argued with myself, I looked back at the rack. I'm sorry, what does that say? 25% off lowest ticketed price? You have GOT to be shitting me.

I ran over to the checkout and asked the salesgirl to price check the dress for me. $77.

Um ring me up, please. Let me just get my card.

I am now the proud owner of the most beautiful dress I have ever seen which I got for 75% off. I even had my mother affirm for me that I did the right thing by buying it.

So does anybody need a fabulous date for New Year's Eve?