Does it work? does it matter?

        So a couple of Saturdays ago Theresa and I were at Polaris Mall looking for a bridesmaid dress for Theresa to  wear to her sister Claire's upcoming Arizona wedding, the requirement  being anything in a shade of green.
        Our hope was to find something reasonably priced, something from  JC Penny's or Sears, maybe we'd even go as far up the spending ladder as Macy's.  We schlepped our way from establishment  to establishment to establishment finding, of course, no dress in any shade of green, save one neon green number on the clearance rack of JC Penny's that looked as though it had been designed to be worn by an 80-year-old floozy.
        We hadn't planned on shopping at Von Maur's  - a wee bit pricey for our  typically plebeian tastes - but  as we trudged despondantly past the store on our way to the mall exit there emminated from within a waft of wonderful piano music the style of which tipped me off that my friend and piano mentor Elmer Cabotage* must be at the keys.  

       *Elmer Cabotage, concert pianist, composer, master teacher and  master of the Chopin etudes,  is a gift to the planet.  And a really nice guy.  He plays live at Von Maur's every Wednesday from 11am-3pm and almost every Saturday from 2-5 pm.   I suggest to everyone who is lucky enough to live in Columbus to go hear Elmer play some time.  You can relax on the comfy couches around the piano and listen to the music.  Elmer's playing is ethereal, like an ice cream sundae for your soul, ony it won't make your soul fat. 

     Elmer Cabotage, master pianist, far left, and me, not master pianist, far right, about a million or so years ago. The kid in the plaid shirt, Jonathan Jurgens, went on to become a tenor  with the Indianapolis opera.

        So anyway, we decided to  pop into Von Maur's, say howdy to Elmer, listen to him play, and forget our travails for a little while.
        We entered the store, but on our way to the piano we caught a flash of green towards which Theresa and I were pulled as if in the grip of a Vulcan mind meld.
        As we approached it became clear that the enticing flash was originating from the swimsuit department, but it didn't matter; we saw green and our wills were no longer ours. 
        The green turned out to be coming from a row of swimsuit cover-ups. But what beautiful
swim-suit cover-ups they were!  Why, they could almost pass for...bridesmaids dresses!
Now, $58 is an obnoxious price for a swim-suit cover-up, but for a bridesmaid dress? 
    Whoa, steal of the century!
    Did we buy that $58 swim-suit cover-alias-bridesmaid dress?
    Oh, Mama, you know  we did!

      In the dressing room at Von Maur's, me photo-bombing Theresa's selfie in her "bridesmaid dress" (wink, wink!)

     So anyway, while I was waiting in the Von Maur's dressing room while Theresa tried on her dress there passed by me this woman wearing the most perfect black top with beads and sequins.  I watched her do a couple of turns in front of the dressing room mirror  and, really, this top looked just great on her!  I couldn't help  wondering how that top would look on me.  By chance (or was it?) there was a sales lady hanging around, so I asked her if there might be another such black top in  my size in the store.  She said that by chance (or was it?) there was just one more of those tops left, on the clearance rack, and probably just my size!  She zipped out to get it for me and the next thing you know:

     Yep, I bought it!  $34, reduced from...oh, well, I don't know  what!

        In retrospect I wondered if Von Maur's hired good-looking ladies to traipse around the dressing rooms pretending to be customers wearing their clothes to entice likely schmo's like me into buying their stuff.  Well, if they do it worked!
        I figured this could be the upper half of my mother-of-the bride outfit.
        Theresa, however, insisted that the ensemble looked great as it was, sneakers and all!
        Which got me to wondering...might it actually work?
        Is there any way in the universe I could get away with wearing grey jeans and sneakers to my daughter's wedding?
        I mean, how comfortable would that be?
    I kept turning the question over and over in my mind for the rest of the afternoon: how would that outfit look at a wedding?
    That night Tom and I were going to the Columbus Symphony, and just before we left, the light bulb went off in my head, and so:   

What do you think?  Maybe some sparkelies glued to the sneakers?