I considered writing this post yesterday, but if I did, it would have been a completely incoherent babble of stressed out profanities followed by little girl squeals…oh wait, I write like that everyday. Well, we’re almost a month away from the big day and this past weekend gave me a run for my money. So again, apologies for interrupting the running conversation, but I have to document this for my sanity, let alone the lessons that I learned from it.
After a very productive wedding weekend, including my friend’s bridal shower, her bachelorette party, working on decorations and meeting with the DJ, we made our way to the dress store for my final fitting. One month out from the big day, I should be fine right? Eh heh, one would hope.
I went to the back room and prepared to slip on my dress that my father would walk me down the aisle in. I rustle it down my waist and my mom begins to zip me up. The next thing I hear is, “Oh shit. It’s three inches from closing.” Immediately, I begin to freak out and wonder how in the hell I gained that much weight. But no, no, that was impossible – I weigh exactly the same. My mom instantly begins assuring me that it wasn’t me and the alteration team came scurrying in. They measured, checked, and measured some more as I stayed quiet and my mom started talking all too loudly about the ridiculousness of the situation. Plain and simple fact, they completely did my alterations wrong.
While my mom is huffing it out with the alteration lady, they decided to take the dress back into the operating room to see if they could revive it. While I waited for the dress to come out of ER, I decided to tweet.
This is a total digital nerd thing to say, but all of your tweets not only made me giggle throughout the entire process, but helped keep me sane. Some of you said that you would go “ape shit” or “beat them up” for me…ahhh, I love you guys! So here’s to you, my Twitter besties, THANK YOU!
So low and behold, they are able to undo their original alterations so it can zip again, but this time they let it out far too much. So back into dress ER it went to be refitted. After 20 minutes I thought we were finally getting somewhere. I slip the newly altered dress on again and disaster number two strikes. Unless I wanted to flash the guests every time I dance, this dress was not holding me in. WHY didn’t someone tell me that sweetheart dresses shouldn’t be purchased by women with no boobs?! WHY didn’t some tell me that my torso is too long for this dress and it won’t work? WHY did you have me believe that sewing in a little chest padding would hold it up?! WHY? WHY? WHY?
We had no other option. We needed to find a new dress that could be rush shipped to me in the next couple of weeks. The hunt was on for a completely new dress.
So my mom started dragging in more options and after two dresses, I fell in love.
I fell in love with a dress that was so perfect, so me, so much better than my original dress…it was all worth it. I put it on and it was finally the moment they talked about that I had been missing for so long. The moment you say yes to the dress.
The good news is I never cried. I never yelled at anyone. I just wanted a dress that would fit, and it turned out that I found an even better one. All of the drama, stress, and chaos was worth it as I am now proud to show it off and am excited to marry Chicken Face in it.
If anything, it was another testimony to the tried and true mantra of “There’s a reason for everything.” Take everything in stride and it will all work out. It always does.