I picked up my wedding dress yesterday, and I found the entire experience hilarious.
(I really apologize for this becoming wedding central. I’m not that crazy woman- I swear! Other than my burst of productivity when I emailed a bunch of DJs last weekend I’ve done exactly nothing. Except stress eat* and break out.** But the only other thing I do is school, and, well, let’s just say a post about the progress I’ve made on my thesis would be…quite short.)
(Kind of like my actual thesis! Ha!)
I picked up my wedding dress yesterday. They had ordered a version that was (hopefully) lacking in other women’s makeup and weird boob sweatstains.
I asked to try it on, just to make sure that it wasn’t ripped or a size 0*** or something ridiculous like that. They were all, “Oh, okay, let’s get you a consultant.”
Now, when I bought the dress (when there was commission involved), the consultant was all attentive. Like, uber attentive. Like, I had to tell her I was perfectly capable of putting on a bra by myself (been doing it for years!) or she would have been in there with me. I had shoes brought to me. I had help with the hangers…she did everything including ask to wax my eyebrows to complete the look at one point, I’m pretty sure.
This time? After the dress was paid for? Not quite so much. The angry-looking consultant handed me my dress (in the bag) and my veil (also in a bag) and showed me to a changing room. She stared sullenly at me for a minute before saying, “So, do you, like, need a bra or something?”
Uh. Yeah. I’m wearing a black t-shirt. Do you really think I’m going to be wearing a bra that will look awesome with my white strapless wedding dress? I’ll take one, please.
She returns a few minutes later with a bra that was washed last during the Clinton administration, I’m pretty sure, and a slip, I’m not even kidding, without a zipper pull. And then leaves again to go bitch to my mother about how she has to prepare Thanksgiving dinner for her family.
I had to put my dress on by myself. Now, I’m not exactly the Cinderella princess bridal gown type. My dress is, I guess A-line? Sort of? Anyway, no huge skirt. But still. Do you know how hard it is to get a wedding dress on by yourself? Really hard. I had to wear my knee high boots underneath because there were no shoes pro-offered.
After we decided it was, in fact, the same dress, she got to sell us a $10 garment bag. I’m sure that eight cents commission she made was totally worth it.
*My fiance and I both stress eat. We’ve decided we need to keep each other really really happy or we’ll end up being featured on a TLC show about a family that can’t leave their home.
** Seriously. I had PERFECT skin until I hit 24 and then it went to hell. Like God decided to make all the seriously disturbing aspects of my life seems far less significant because GOOD LORD DOES THAT PIMPLE HURT and HOW DID IT DEVELOP SINCE DINNER SERIOUSLY???
***I shall spare you my rant on bridal sizing for now…but seriously, I’d spend more money if you didn’t MAKE ME TWO SIZES BIGGER THAN I AM EVERYWHERE ELSE.