I am the kind of girl that likes to look good, I love to dress to kill and I love to have fun. You can call me a slay queen if you want. When I was younger, people, especially men used to mistake me for an older person due to my physique. I must say I am well endowed. When I buy clothes or have them sewn, I always like them to be fitting. It got to a time it was so bad that my mother had to step in. She felt I was showing too much.
When I entered university, I felt I could explore and be the old me again. There too, my friends wouldn’t let me be. They were always on me. One of my close friends, Kyerewaa would tease me and say, “Ei madam skin tight, one day you’ll be walking and all you’ll hear is trrrrrrrr… na woto ate” I would laugh it off whilst calling her a hater. When I met my would-be husband, he seemed okay with my dressing at first until he realized how bad this my “skin tight” issue was. He advised me to desist from wearing such clothes, it didn’t speak well of me but again, I would say okay and return to my ways.
Then my man came to see my family about my hand in marriage and we set the ball rolling. At the dressmakers, I looked through the various styles and settled on one very flattering piece. She called me to come for fittings and everything appeared okay but I wasn’t satisfied. So I sent the dress, I mean the one for the traditional wedding to a friend who was a seamstress as well to alterate it for me. At first, she was willing to do it but when she asked me to put it on to see where the issue was, it got her annoyed. “Yaa, but this dress is more than flattering. It’s so beautiful. What else do you want me to do to it?” I had to beg her and lie to her to alterate it just a tiny little bit. In the end, she was worn down by my pleas and did it.
On my wedding day, I couldn’t wait to finally put on my dress to the admiration of all. My face had been “beat”, my hair was done beautifully and the pictures were rolling. Then I put on my dress. Everyone, from my mother, my sisters, my friends and my aunts were all admiring the dress. Then one aunt said, “Yaa no no, sɛsɛɛ w’abɔ hoo oooh” Everyone laughed. They knew me that well. When I had to move, it was an issue but I didn’t want to cause any attention so I continued.
That fateful day, the words of my friend, Kyerewaa came true. We were dancing when all I heard was trrrrrr. Oh. The dress had ripped from my lower back down. Kyerewaa and a few of my girls were around and so, they formed this kind of circle around me, separating me from my husband and his guys. Then they led me away to change. I thankfully had a second dress on standby.
Even though it wasn’t time for me to change into the second dress, I had to wear it and so did my husband because it was a complimentary attire. He was so mad but tried keeping his cool. After the ceremony, people came up to me, asking why I changed the dress so soon. They were like, “Oooh the first dress was very beautiful, you shouldn’t have even bothered with the second” I was annoyed inside.
If only they knew why I had to change. Maybe they saw it and were trying to tell me something indirectly. The way my hubby and Kyerewaa laughed at me afterwards, I was very embarrassed and swore never to do skin tight again but na lie! From time to time, I still sew or buy clothes that are skin tight.