I say: I have a fancy wedding to go to this summer. It says on the invitation that "the mother of the bride will be wearing a hat".
She says: Oh you can borrow one of my dresses. Do you want to come and try them on next week?
I say: Sure, you probably know much better than I or B does about what a girl should wear to a "chapeau" wedding.
I think: I doubt my slightly-taller-than-a-woodland-creature-self will fit into your average height, average weight and average chest-size dresses (damn you and your averageness!). And I fear you have floral prints.
Next week at her house...
She says: Let me just get my dresses out of the closet and we'll take a look.
I think: How am I going to politely say no without offending her floral-print-pattern-taste. Maybe I'll just take one with me and then say I found something else.
Unzipping the plastic protector.
Gold and velvet hangers Louis Vuitton.
Dress labels: Kenzo, Christian Dior.
I think: Oh right. I am the jerk thinking that you wear curtain dresses. You work at LVMH.
She says: What size shoe do you wear?
I think: Are you my fairy godmother?
I say: 36
She says: I'm 36.5 but let's take a look, we might be able to find something.
Cue closet filled with shoe boxes full of delicately made Louis Vuitton shoes.
I think: I love you.