The Saving Stitches

Somewhere between the times of dancing crazily on the dance floor, and walking outside to get some water at Prom, my dress ripped. I was walking up, and a girl bumped into me, and the sequins on her prom dress pulled, and before i knew it, there was a slash in my dress. I literally almost started crying. For me, this was THE dress. The one that meant something to me- it was an Alberta Ferretti, and I don't own too many of those. But in the salvation of the rest of night, I pretended it was nothing. However, when I returned home at 7 in the following morning, I took a better look at it. There was an enormous 5 inch tear across the front. Not on the seam. It was unavoidable. Anyone who wasn't completely blind would notice it. So I decided to research stitching. There had to be SOMEONE out there, my savior, who could fix a ripped silk dress. And there might have been in Paris, England, or Italy. But not in Colorado. There are lots of tailors, but no specialty "let me save the day with my crafty needle and thread expertise." And I am not that good. There was no way that I could do that. But what else can I do? Except hold a very nice funeral for me dress...