Summer Rain Gain: Here Comes the Sundress

Bag: Ella & Elly, Amazon

Rainbow bracelets: So, Kohl's; Ring: Express; Giraffe bracelet: Target

Dress: Mudd, Kohl's

Sandals: So, Kohl's

Tank: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Sunglasses: Target; Green necklace: Target; Ring: Mixit, JCPenney; Rainbow bangle: B Fabulous; Pink bangle: Mixit, JCPenney

Dress: Lily Rose, Kohl's

Bag: Gifted from parts unknown

Sandals: Bongo, Sears

Bag: H&M; Sunglasses: Brigantine beach shop; Chunky necklace: Gifted from parts unknown; Jelly bangles: Target; Polka dot bangle: Mixit, JCPenney; Pink bangle: Silver Linings, Ocean City; Pink stretch bracelet: Amrita Singh, Zulily; Ring: Francesca's  

Dress: Monteau, Marshalls

We all know that clothes make me happy.  And when it's summer, my favorite thing to wear is a sundress!  Simple yet stylish, this girlish garment takes me from garden party to seafood swap meet.  Not really, though, because these days I'm usually home.  Also, I would never go to a seafood swap meet (if there even is such a thing).  Although I once went to a farmer's market with a tent full of raw scallops sweating in the June sun.  Nothing like a side of ptomaine to spice up your scampi!  But enough about suspect seafood and nightmare-slash-magazine-spread-style outings.  This post is about my love for the sundress and how it can cure what ails you, no matter how horrific.  Behold my attempt to say so in verse:    

Ran into your ex

After bouncing ten checks.

Here comes the sundress.

Broke your new heel

After botching a deal.

Here comes the sundress.

Got stung by a bee

After losing your key.

Here comes the sundress.

Got fired by a jerk

Then saw your mom twerk.

Here comes the sundress.

Ate chocolate goop 

That turned out to be poop.

Here comes the sundress.

Blew out a tire

Then started a fire.

Here comes the sundress.

The world tumbles down

And knocks off your crown.

Here is the sundress.

As they say, into each life -- and wardrobe! -- a little rain must fall.  But if the rain is the curveball, then the sundress is the parachute.  You know, like that game in gym class where the gym teacher tosses the multicolored balls inside the big red-and-white-striped parachute and you have to shake the parachute so that the balls bounce around like popcorn.  

Hmm.  Maybe that was one metaphor too many.  Still, the sundress is like that parachute, colorful and uplifting, a beacon of hope when you're hurtling through a sky full of vultures.  

Rainstorms -- and firings and fires -- don't stand a chance.

Nor does ptomaine.