I was out with the fiance the other day to pick out my tux-an equally challenging task.  

 To allow ample amounts of time to prepare myself emotionally, I had to cut off my working hours early to reserve myself for the rest of the day.

  Yes, this was planned  months ago, but this is Tuxedo day, you see. Women, on their part, have numerous days assigned for fitting and refitting their mile long gowns, not to mention, the bazillion hours of phone calls spent with girlfriends discussing the pros and cons of each and every gown in bridal magazines, while I, the lone groom, only have 1 day- ow, make that just 30 minutes, to be exact. 

This is, of course, one of those crucial times in marriage, along with wedding pictorials, family reunions and child support payments where a considerately productive groom-to-be or any real man, in that matter, are expected to perform exceedingly well…or at least, way up above  average.

 you understand the scenario I’m in  right? the level of pressure?

If there was a time in my life  I’d  wish I could be as suave as 007, this would be it. Go in the store, flip a cigar from my side pocket, say some french clothing-language that only me and the expert tailor comprehends; sit at the counter and leisurely  drop a killer “one liner, “Martini; shaken, not stirred”.

Unfortunately, like the realities of  espionage and make-believe movies, I was the clumsy green ogre that day, stumbling over a shelf of wedding brochures as we stepped in.

I always thought choosing tuxedos were easy. I mean, there are only 2 available colors to choose from for crying out loud and the designs, well, aside from worrying if its gonna be double-breasted or not the suits look basically the same.

but it turns out, when your inside a den filled with  black and white customary drapes for aspiring husbands, the similarities evaporate and now you face  endless variety of exquisitely designed tuxedos,silk, non-silk ,ties, bow ties, bent collars, straightened collars,  or whatever else they are.

Choices which are  too complex for my already shrinking pea-sized brain to decide on.

 I heard that one way of chosing the best one, something that’s truly YOU would be to close your eyes and listen to your heart decide.

 Well, I don’t exactly know how the heart tells you , maybe in a quick extra beat or a skip but walking inside the corridors filled with tagged coats, I had a feeling my heart decided to abandon me on this, or maybe missed its still small voice  for all I heard were my shoes squeeking on the well polished floor and terror-strickened soul screaming,  drowning from confusion and indecisiveness. 

I traversed each aisle aimlessly, touching each possible coat, hoping, nay, praying that one enchanted tux would connect with me.

 but there was silence. there were no sparks.

Fortunately, the fiance was there to lend me her expertise, holding my hand the whole time. Snapping me back from my hysteria. And without breaking a sweat, even with eyes closed she, in slow-motion, extended her finger and rested them gently on a black, double breasted, polyester tuxedo. 

Then the room glistened. 

I swear I heard angels singing right there.

               It isnt mainly about the money now, it’s more on intuition. The skill of fashion. The ability to locate the same beauty,sophistication and elegance of coco chanel and gucci but without its death-defying high price.
The part where one can put together scraps of unrecognizable, ordinary, even used clothing with zero percent beauty and turn them into one futuristic art.
I trailed her one day, hoping to atleast capture a glimpse of her sorcery.
i took note on all objects she glanced upon, it felt weird coz each objects made different facial expressions. a smirk on a flowing, summery flower-colored dress at macy’s, a disgust on a green tank top at target, devlish grin on a purple-body-hugging short dress at H&M.
It seem like in a split second she travels through time and sees how these dresses look like in the far future.
With each step, each glance, clothes, accessories are slowly eliminated. only a chosen few are previliged enough to be part of her collection, which at that time,to me, still made no sense. A bracelet, a ring, some sort of sash, a white razor back top with uncomprehendable writings.
She held them like her lost treasures, strutting excitedly like Little Red Ridinghood to her grandma.
The idea becomes more confusing each time a new piece is added.
Im starting to loss hope of understanding her art now, maybe this is but a random pick, never actually intended to organize them into one unique artform, or maybe i was wrong. maybe she wasnt the prodigy i had in mind.
Wait a minute.
Where did she go? She was right infront of me just a second ago.
Where might she have gone?
I ran. heart raising, outrunning my steps. scared not because of the art lost, scared more of lossing the beauty i waited so long to see. each breathe made the infrastructure shrink. Racks of clothing are now like mazes, created to trap me. like Snow White’s prince, i choped my way through the thorned walls of chanel, forever XXI, nordstrom, D&G, Louis vuitton,Marshalls.
Almost running out of strength, i decided to clinch my thirst first at   In&out. to restore my strengh i have to focus on each gulp of their cold rasberry icedtea.
 With each bite of their fresh animal fries and meaty burgers my energy crawls back, slowly my body is transformed, muscles grow, abdomen slowly chiselled. i appear more like jacob black now.
With a spurt of energy, i blasted ahead.
Rejuvinated with keen eyesight and sense of smell, i spotted a familiar figure hid itself in the shadows of one corridor at the farthest end of clothing-filled jungle. i raised my speed up.
i could not allow myself to loss her again this time..nearing the entrance of the veil covered counter, i focused all my energy on my lower cafs to catapolt me into a huge jump.
as the veil slowly opened, i noticed the figure standing in front of the mirrors was her . Bbut wait, why is the room full reflecting crystal glass, is this a trap?is this where she does her magic? and why is she just standing there? was she expecting me?am i gonna die?…… no…
Slowly the figure appears to full form, beauty……she looks different,like Gizelle Bunchen in the red carpet. dazzling.
my jaw dropped. teeth sweating with drool.
The magic was done. the transformation begun and i was too late…
slumped on the floor exhausted. i collected myself.
 i need to know how she does it, i need to know the trick…clinching my magic card from my traussers, i fearlessly stepped towards her. back facing me, she was still tranced infront of the mirror from her transformation, if i must strike, i need to strike now, or my chance would be forever lost.
i moved closer,raised my arm. then moving my face near her  ear, i woke her up with a shove and whispered……”e TRANSFORM pud ko te be, pls… murag c vanessa hudgens pud kuno ko”…..