I bought the cheap dress first. Obviously.
It was on sale. Fifteen dollars. Cute print. Sleeves I liked. I tried it on in the store mirror and thought "this is fine." You know that feeling. It's not amazing but it's fine and it's fifteen dollars so who cares.
I wore it maybe four times. The first wash, the color faded a little. Not a lot. Just enough that I noticed. The second wash, a seam came loose near the armpit. I sewed it back. Felt proud of myself for five minutes. The third wash, the fabric got weird. Thin in some spots. Stretched out in others.
I stopped reaching for it after that. It hung in my closet for months. Every time I saw it, I felt a little guilty. Not because of the environment or anything deep. Just because I wasted money. Fifteen dollars isn't nothing to me. And I got maybe four wears out of it.
Four wears. Fifteen dollars. That's almost four dollars every time I put it on. For a dress I didn't even like that much.
The $80 Dress
The eighty dollar dress hurt to buy.
I stood in the store for twenty minutes. Checked the price tag three times. Walked away. Came back. Texted a friend a photo. She said "just get it." So I did.
That was three years ago. I still have it.
The fabric is thicker. It doesn't wrinkle much. The color is exactly the same as the day I bought it. I've washed it more times than I can count. Cold water, hang dry. Nothing special. The dress just holds up.
I wear it all the time. To work. To dinner. To the grocery store when I want to feel like a person. To brunch. To parties. On airplanes because it doesn't wrinkle in my bag. I've worn it in the rain. I've spilled coffee on it and dabbed it with a wet napkin and it was fine.
I stopped counting after maybe thirty wears. That was the first year. Now? I don't know. Fifty? Sixty? More? It's just part of my closet now. I don't think about it. I just wear it.
The Hidden Cost of Cheap
Here's what no one told me about the expensive dress.
It's not just the money. It's the brain space.
The cheap dress made me think every time I wore it. Does this look faded? Is that seam okay? Should I have bought something else? I never felt good in it. I just felt like someone who bought a fifteen dollar dress.
The eighty dollar dress? I don't think about it at all. I grab it. I put it on. I go do things. It fits. It looks fine. It doesn't ask anything from me.
That peace of mind is worth something. I didn't know that until I had it.
I still buy cheap stuff sometimes.
T-shirts. Socks. Stuff I know will get beat up. That's fine. But dresses? I learned my lesson.
The fifteen dollar dress is in a donation pile somewhere. Or maybe it got thrown out. I don't remember. The eighty dollar dress is hanging in my closet right now. I looked at it this morning. Thought about wearing it. Grabbed something else just for a change. But I knew it was there. Waiting. Still fine. Still mine.
What I still mess up: I bought another cheap dress last month. Forty dollars. On sale. I told myself it was different this time. I wore it once. The zipper broke. I don't know why I keep doing this.
Some lessons take a while, I guess.
