All things lace and beautiful

While driving through traffic, she bobbed her head along to the rhythm of the fuji music playing on the radio.  She let her gaze wander aimlessly and spotted the car on her wish list. It was two cars away, painted a sleek silver. “Too basic” she thought, hers would be a customised metallic bright pink chrome.

Lace tale

So bright that any Lastma officer with silly intentions of harassing her with “Oya, stop! park!”, would be blinded by the sun’s reflection on the shiny chrome. The mental image made her giggle.

Like the one who stopped her the other day for applying mascara whilst driving, didn’t he realise that she was a woman? Everyone and their one-eyed neighborhood Bingo-the-dog knows that God gave women the super powers of multi-tasking.

Mimi, her childhood friend, was getting married. She’d paid Fifty Thousand Naira for the aso-ebi, five yards of turquoise guipure lace fabric with a magenta gele and it was well worth it.  Such an exquisite design, Mimi had great taste. She had yet to choose a style for her outfit, the wedding was only two weeks away.

A newspaper vendor came to her car window with an array of glossy fashion and tabloid magazines.  The newest edition of “Latest Fashionz” magazine caught her eye. The cover page had the photographs of a number of women stylishly clad in lace garments with artfully tied gele head wraps, beautiful jewelry and perfectly applied make-up.

Nigerian women loved to look good! The ladies posed for the pictures, some knowingly, some unknowingly and others pretentiously unknowingly.

She rolled down the glass:

“Fine sister, which one do you want?”

“That one, please”

She had spotted a stunning design and pictured herself in the dress, she preferred a lower neckline though to tastefully display a little hint of her ample bosom.  Ah! LAGOS BOYS ARE NOT READY! She smiled naughtily.

The traffic soon eased, a truck had hit a saloon car and both drivers were having an argument which was what caused the blockage. She chuckled and drove past them.

The following day was a Saturday, she drove down to her tailor’s shop with both the magazine and fabric in tow.  She found a nice parking space in front of “Lady Bee Couture” shop owned by the delectable Beatrice (“Call me ‘Bee’ for short”).

After exchanging pleasantries, she explained what she wanted and Lady Bee assured her, not unlike Olivia Pope, to “Consider it handled“.

“Please make it extremely fitted, let it wrap my body like a first-aid bandage”. She wanted the dress to accentuate her hourglass figure. But on second thought, Ah! There’d be no “feeding allowance” to accommodate the bulge from the many plates of party jollof rice, with its distinct burnt firewood flavour, that she planned to devour at the wedding reception.

Oh well… she shrugged, no Jollof rice for me this time. But oh! she remembered that Mimi had let on that the renowned Chef Gbogbonishe would be catering the occassion.  Hmmm… a spoonful or two would do, she decided.

A week later, during her lunch break at work, she called Lady Bee to check if things were on track, “Yes! Yes! Yes! you’ll love it, I even added my special touch, just for you”. Beatrice had a funny habit of triple yeses and noes.

She grinned and did a little jig for delight in her swivel chair. Ah! The other Aso-ebi ladies won’t know what hit them!

The following Friday, a day before the wedding, she left work early enough and drove to Lady Bee Couture. She got there at about 5:45pm, Beatrice wasn’t in the shop but an apprentice was there to attend to her.

“Please go into the dressing room Ma, I have placed your dress in there”

“Thank you” she said brightly

She was giddy with anticipation as she parted the curtains to the dressing room. She caught her reflection in the full-length mirror, she looked very pretty.  T.G.I.F! It was Jennifer’s birthday today, she and a few other friends had planned a night of croaky karaoke singing, delicious cocktails and dancing at the newest hip bar in the city centre.

Her gaze caught the turquoise fabric, she gave a small gasp as a trance-like feeling slowly engulfed her senses. There was a huge pink bow across the top of the dress and several miniature bows scattered around the dress, like a blown-up replica of a toddler’s party dress.

She almost rubbed her eyes as if to erase the visual assault, but didn’t want to risk smudging her eye-liner. “Was that the “special touch?” She asked herself in surprise.

She quickly undressed and tried the dress on. To her amazement the nightmare wasn’t over. There was a small pouch, similar to a female Kangaroo’s, in the area where her flat tummy should have been accentuated had the dress been skin-tight in accordance with her instructions.

And why oh why was she glittering? She wondered.  Then she saw it. The lace was lined with the most garish multi-coloured sequined fabric, which peeked through the spaces between the guipure motifs.

It felt like an out-of-body experience when she remembered that the wedding was holding the very next day.

The mental image of herself certainly NOT killing Lagos boys and girls, left, right and centre whilst dressed as a Disney princess slash Mobile disco ball slash Maternal Australian jumping animal tortured her so badly that her mouth opened, as if of its own accord and a piercing shriek erupted.

Till this day, Lagosians tell the story of that mysterious Friday when at about 6:05pm a loud “BEEEAAATTTRRREEEEECE!!!” was heard in every corner of the city.

Some say it caused a stampede, some say they left their cars parked in the middle of the road and took to their heels, some even claim they felt tremors in the ground and some say it was Hurricane Beatrice.

Did you hear it? 😉



  1. Hahaha…….. funny piece. Perhaps Beatrice knows what she has done. No wonder she vamoose before she arrive.
    Lagos tailor and their oversabiness though, lolz.
    Lmao @ “Please make it extremely fitted, let it wrap my body like a first-aid bandage”.
    You are just simply talented with words!


    1. Hello Oyedoyin,

      Ah! Your comment isn’t late at all, I was so glad to see it. Thank you so much for stopping by. 🙂

      Lol @ “murdered my tailor in my head”. Funny enough, it was my tailor who inspired me to learn to sew, I watched her turn a near-disaster into a happy ending and then I realized that sewing wasn’t rocket science after all.

      Have a lovely weekend.


  2. I started sewing from quite a young age so I have the good fortune of making my own clothes. until it entered my head one day to do ‘to match’ with my husband. unfortunately I fell ill that week so I gave the fabric to a nearby tailor to sew a simple buba top. oleku tins.
    my bust: 36
    sewing measurement: 38
    when I came to pick up the cloth, what I saw boggled my mind. I asked for measuring tape. The bust was 52!
    Tailor: you said u dont want it to be too tight nau
    Me: How does that justify moving from 38 to 52??

    After that I got well by force. ain’t nobody else touching my cloth. the resizing and resewing process messed up the fabric some. my expensive white cod lace! I’m thinking of converting it to a blouse for the wrapper.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Hello Mrs Roks,

      Ah! Your comment left me in stitches, After 38 jumped to 52, you got well by force! I laughed so hard. XD Cord lace for that matter, it must have been so annoying.

      I started sewing 2 years ago. One of the reasons that I decided to learn, was so I could take matters into my hands, I was tired of holding my breath at my tailor’s shop on collection day hoping that I didn’t receive an unpleasant surprise.

      Thank you so much for reading.


  3. Lol… Did you wear the dress?
    Can imagine the bows all around the dress.
    Tailors believe they are the best in designing so they always want to add their own bit of idea instead of concentrating on joining the cloths.

    I love your writing style and the sense of humor is second to none.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Tola,

      Ah! This tale is purely fiction.

      I have my own tailor heartbreak story, I’d given her the fabric 3 weeks before and when I showed up to collect my clothes, she hadn’t even cut it. In fact, the fabric was still in the same plastic bag that I brought it in 3 weeks before. 😀

      Thank you so much for reading, have a lovely weekend.


  4. LOOOOL! I can’t stop laughing! That ‘Ah Lagos boys are not ready” was too apt!
    Girl, I had a similar Beatrice experience with my very good tailor oh, two years back, I couldn’t shout. I was so mad.
    The dress was not what I showed her and the fabric was expensive too and she was now attending to new customers instead of calming me down, kai I could’ve exploded if not for my friends lol!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. LOL at Hurricane bee !

    Such a risible tale! but so typical of a ”Friday with an Owambed planned Saturday” .

    We ve all had such experience! but then i learnt the hard way …….a COVER !

    Nice piece, commend your exertion .

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hello Ebere,

      Lol @ “Owambed planned Saturday” 😀

      I agree with you, a Plan B garment is sometimes necessary, to save one from the heartbreak of a tailor’s unpleasant surprise.

      Thank you for reading.

      Enoy the rest of the week!


  6. I can’t! Maternal Australian jumping animal 😂😂😂
    This story deserves several reads. I have like up to four tailor horror stories. I passed through the eye of the needle to find a good tailor.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Hi Sandra,

      Hehehe! Thank you so much for reading.

      I laughed and laughed at “passed through the eye of the needle to find a good tailor”, perfect choice of words. XD

      Most Nigerian ladies have up to three tailors on speed dial, as insurance for unforeseen “hurricanes”.

      Have a great week!


  7. Beatreeceee!!!!

    Lol! Nedoux, you outdid yourself! I love how you didn’t even announce it. You just eased us into your prose. No warning. I like your style! 😉

    I smelt trouble when Beatrice said she’d added her own “special touch” and our protagonist didn’t go and check out her outfit till it was too close to the D-day. Why didn’t Beatrice just stick to the plan, ehn? And yes some folks think large bows = couture automatically. Nah!

    But my absolute favorite part was when she assessed the dress and found a kangaroo-like pouch where her tummy should’ve been. I burst out and laughed and laughed and laughed some more. You’re too much!

    Please write more, I beg you. This totally made my day! 😆

    P. S. You didn’t share any sewing details. We need more shots of that black lace number. The single picture isn’t enough o.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Sharon,

      Thank you so much. 😀

      I have a strong hunch that Beatrice didn’t sew that dress, she probably assigned the task to a junior apprentice, to whom she gave instructions over the phone while admiring her fresh manicure.

      As for the protagonist, it’s either she really had full faith in Beatrice’s expertise or she has a last minute dot com habit.

      Me too, the kangaroo detail really cracked me up.

      Lol, that picture was the book (story) cover o, but I do have a black lace sewing project in the pipeline. I’ll do a post soon.

      Have a blessed week!

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Hello Biki,

      Thank you so much for reading, I use words to paint a picture of the things dancing in my head. 🙂

      Enjoy the rest of the week!


  8. 😂😂😂😂😂😭😭😭
    I’m laughing. I’m crying. I don’t know what I’m doing.
    Pink chrome. Garish sequins. Pink bows. I imagined the screaming and fell over myself laughing.

    P.s- that black lace top/dress looks beautiful on you.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Ebony,

      Some tailors hear one thing and do another thing, they assume that they know what is best for their customer. 😀

      Thank you dear..

      Have a fab week!


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