The Dress

Before going to Koudougou I dropped off fabric to the tailor for my dress.  Traditional Burkinabe white fabric and a burnt orange-ish color for the waist band that was to match Josh’s tie.  I took my friend Lauren with me who is a bit of a ball buster, and she made sure the tailor knew EXACTLY how I wanted the dress and took ALL the needed measurements and that everything would be perfect.  He told me it would be ready in one week; perfect, I’ll pick it up after our week in Koudougou. 

I went to see if it was ready on the following Monday.  Josh helped me find the shop, since I’m terrible with directions, and then left to fix my bike while I dealt with the tailor.  I had a flat tire, again.  The tailor recognized me right away, and, with a smirk, asked where Lauren was, who was at the transit house.  My dress was ready and he pulled it out of the closet- it was perfect!  The embroidery on the waste band, which Lauren had given him creative rights too, turned our beautifully!  He led me to his room (his shop was attached to a restaurant/hotel, which he apparently lived at) so I could try it on.  I excitedly slipped off my skirt and t-shirt and slipped on the dress, only to find that the side zipper was slightly on a backwards angle and I couldn’t zip it up past my ribs.  I tried and tried, but I just couldn’t get it past that point.  I took off the dress and tried the zipper, could there be a catch?  Nope, it went up fine.  Okay, let’s try this again.  Is the dress too small or can I just not zip it up?  I put it back on and, once again, same spot no-go.  I could pull the fabric together so it didn’t seem like I was the problem, at the angle of the zipper I just couldn’t do it up myself.  I debated for a second- could I go out and find the tailor to help?  What if he had gone back to his shop, I would have to walk through the hotel and the restaurant in my half zipped dress.  Plus, would it be culturally appropriate to have a man tailor zip me up on a side zipper when I wasn’t wearing anything underneath?  Then I debated calling Josh or Lauren to come help me, but it would take too long for them to arrive, I'd already been in there well over 5 minutes.  And that would just be ridiculous-“Hi, I’m stuck in a dressing room at the tailor’s and can’t zip myself up, will you come help me?”  I took the dress off once again and tried the zipper.  Still good, so I decided to give it one more try. just one more quick try.  Third times a charm, right?  One more go and if I can’t get it I’ll go find the tailor.  I put it back on and gave it one hard tug.  Well that did it aright- pulled the zipper right off.  Still didn’t go past that one spot on my ribs.

I got dressed and walked out, dress in one hand, zipper tag in the other.  The tailor looked at me funny.  When I told him what happened he said he would have zipped me up, duh, you idiot .  Still, he happily replaced the zipper and by the time he was done Josh had returned with my bike.  This time when he handed me the dress to try on he told Josh to go with me, simply saying “she needs help”.  Josh got the zipper on the first try, of course, and when I walked out to show the tailor he said “voila” and gave me a look that said “you should have just asked for help the first time around”.  He tested out the snugness of the fit and made sure it was well tailored before trimming off the extra fabric and loose stings, a sign of a good tailor.  I paid 20 mille, about $40, and we were on our way.  Next time I’ll be sure Lauren is with me to get me in the dress.