So I'm a bridesmaid on Thursday. It's a much maligned job really. At no other time in my grown-up life do I have to wear something chosen for me by somebody else. And at no other time in my grown-up life do I have to walk unshielded in front of so many people who are blatantly judging my outfit. It's not fair!
After trying on the dress in front of the bride's mother (the bride having sent it over from England) and gotten a response of, 'Well - it fits,' I had not worn the dress in front of anyone else. It's... how do you say.... 'ill fitting'. Cassie describes it as a muffin-top dress. It's all puffy at the top, then clingy at the bottom. The opposite way around to what I usually wear.
Today I pulled it out to show my step-mother. She immediately said, 'It's hideous!' based on its shiny grey mass of folds. I'd tried to soften the blow and said, 'Well, it could be a nice dress, just not on me...' but she'd insisted the dress was hideous. I then said, 'Wait til you see it on! It gets worse!'
So I came out with the dress on and she said, 'Oh, you poor thing!' and laughed. It's that bad. She said I'd look like a giant shiny cauliflower in the photos.
We stood pulling and tucking at bits of the fabric (which is too tight on my thighs but too loose everywhere else). I pulled a handful of fabric tight at the back of my waist... and Lynne said, 'Uh huh! That's what's wrong!' Her theory was that if we did a pin tuck at the back, then the front bit sat up a bit like it's supposed to.
So she got out the needle and thread and put a few stitches in the back. It looked somewhat better. Still not great, but much better. And the newly created pleat at the back took a little attention off my massive silver buttocks.
She lent me her hard-core granny undies (the kind that go from your knees to your tummy button). They improved things a bit too. I figure my chances of scoring whilst wearing this dress are slim to none, so nana-undies aren't a problem.
But we were still laughing at how bad I looked even after our alterations.
I'm sure my hair will look nice. Or maybe I'll go for a beehive hairdo just to pull people's eye upwards....... I look forward to hearing the euphemisms people come up with to try and make me feel better about how I look in it...
Wish me luck!
At least my back is less sore than it was - I think I can walk upright anyhow (the granny undies help - they act a little like a back brace).
It's funny though really. The only three things a bridesmaid really has to do are turn up, look good in the dress and walk elegantly down the aisle. One out of three ain't bad.
After trying on the dress in front of the bride's mother (the bride having sent it over from England) and gotten a response of, 'Well - it fits,' I had not worn the dress in front of anyone else. It's... how do you say.... 'ill fitting'. Cassie describes it as a muffin-top dress. It's all puffy at the top, then clingy at the bottom. The opposite way around to what I usually wear.
Today I pulled it out to show my step-mother. She immediately said, 'It's hideous!' based on its shiny grey mass of folds. I'd tried to soften the blow and said, 'Well, it could be a nice dress, just not on me...' but she'd insisted the dress was hideous. I then said, 'Wait til you see it on! It gets worse!'
So I came out with the dress on and she said, 'Oh, you poor thing!' and laughed. It's that bad. She said I'd look like a giant shiny cauliflower in the photos.
We stood pulling and tucking at bits of the fabric (which is too tight on my thighs but too loose everywhere else). I pulled a handful of fabric tight at the back of my waist... and Lynne said, 'Uh huh! That's what's wrong!' Her theory was that if we did a pin tuck at the back, then the front bit sat up a bit like it's supposed to.
So she got out the needle and thread and put a few stitches in the back. It looked somewhat better. Still not great, but much better. And the newly created pleat at the back took a little attention off my massive silver buttocks.
She lent me her hard-core granny undies (the kind that go from your knees to your tummy button). They improved things a bit too. I figure my chances of scoring whilst wearing this dress are slim to none, so nana-undies aren't a problem.
But we were still laughing at how bad I looked even after our alterations.
I'm sure my hair will look nice. Or maybe I'll go for a beehive hairdo just to pull people's eye upwards....... I look forward to hearing the euphemisms people come up with to try and make me feel better about how I look in it...
Wish me luck!
At least my back is less sore than it was - I think I can walk upright anyhow (the granny undies help - they act a little like a back brace).
It's funny though really. The only three things a bridesmaid really has to do are turn up, look good in the dress and walk elegantly down the aisle. One out of three ain't bad.
1 comment:
You realise that this demands photos.
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