So I walk over to Saks, all ready to find the floor full of perfect dresses, and learn that it closes at 7pm. I have 10 minutes to find a dress. I'm still thinking that if I find the perfect floor that's enough time, but there are no little signs with what's on each floor and I'm terrified of sales people (who understand fashion and might find out that I don't) so I just jump on the elevator. The elevator doesn't really have helpful signs either so I get out at the first floor it stops on and walk around, but it's all $500 t-shirts and well-dressed women and there's even a shopping assistance desk, so I know I'm in the wrong place. It's like Tiffany's for clothes. I slowly walk around, trying to look like I know what I'm doing, and circle back to the elevator. Eventually I figure out that there are floors with normal clothes, possibly floors with dresses, but I'm done with Saks. It's just too stressful.

The classic strategy after the last-minute strategy has failed is to try Macy's. The logic is: Macy's is gargantuan. Because of its sheer size, it probably has every piece of clothing made this season by every designer, right? There must be something in there. So I get on the train to Herald Square and go through my classic Macy's routine. I enter the building from Broadway and walk through the handbags and perfume to the escalator. Escalators are useful because you can see what's on each floor, so I take it until I reach what looks like the right type of womens' clothing. I know Macy's is open until 8:30 so I'm not in a rush, and I figure wandering around aimlessly is better than subjecting myself to the humiliation of asking someone where womens' dresses are. I realize pretty quickly that all I'm going to find is a skirt and blouse combo on my floor, so I try seriously for that, but the only thing that my mother (who will be at this wedding) will approve of is around $350.

So I go stare at the directory and figure out that womens' dresses are on the seventh floor. I take the escalator to the seventh floor. Bedding is on the seventh floor. Or childrens' clothing. There's some sort of half-floor thing going on because the "7th Avenue building" part of Macy's has floors that don't really match up with the other building. I feel like I'm in a maze. I find wedding dresses, but no cocktail dresses. At this point I'm starting to feel mad and frustrated and dehydrated -- the store sucks all of the moisture out of your body in about 20 minutes -- but I see a sign saying that "Woman's Dresses" are on the 8th Floor. Finally! I take an elevator to the 8th floor and realize that "Woman's" means plus-size clothing in Macy's speak. I feel like I've been through enough by then so I ask one of the "Woman's" department staff where to find dresses. "For you?" she asks. I say yes. She directs me to the fourth floor. The FOURTH floor. Macy's really needs to update their freaking signage.

What's maddening about this scenario is that I've been though the whole thing, in this EXACT order, except that last time I didn't have the courage to ask a salesperson for help in the plus size area (I did the whole looking-around nonchalantly thing in the plus size racks). This time, I actually get to the dresses -- half of the seventh avenue side of the building is devoted to dresses -- which is definitely progress, no? Except that in the entire section of dresses, there's not a single one that I can wear to this wedding. They're horrible, slinky ugly things with sequins or cuts I can't wear. I found what looked like another shoe department hidden in the same part of the building, but no dress. So I'm doomed to wear the same black dress I have worn to every event I've attended in the past five years. Which is fine, but I don't have shoes so I'm going to have to go through a similar last-minute shoe finding ritual tomorrow.

The point of all this is that since I grew up in the suburbs I don't know how to shop in Manhattan. It took me years to learn to do Christmas shopping in the city. I always ended up slinking guiltily out to New Jersey to do it all at a mall on Christmas Eve. City shopping is destination shopping -- you have to know where to go, you can't just browse and find something. There's Soho and Herald Square, but they are mobbed by tourists and people from outer boroughs and I usually burn out by the third store. I'm extremely picky, too, which doesn't help. Every once in a while I'll find something perfect and that just makes it harder. So I go around wearing the one perfect thing every day, even though some other part of my wardrobe is seriously lacking. It took me two winters to find a good winter coat, but I've been reduced to using canvas bags instead of a purse because I can't find one I like. I have been to a fancy ballroom thing with an elastic in my hair because I forgot to buy a barrett, and I've been to a wedding in a great outfit but crappy, battered, beach shoes. I think I need a personal assistant. It's hopeless.