On Thursday, I was scheduled for an appointment to show up and get my dress from the alteration place. They have had it for 3.5 weeks. I brought my two mom's along, for that special Hallmark-card type of moment, of "ooh's" and "aah's" and girly giggling....however, when I put the thing on, you could hear only CRICKETS chirping in the room. SILENCE. Dead SILENCE. I said, "Mom, what do you think?" and she bit her lip and said, "Umm...what do YOU think honey?"
Now, my mom usually says what's on her mind, so I KNEW at that moment that something was very, very wrong. I stood there looking in the mirror, not sure of what to think. Florence just stood there, giving my mom a weird look, not saying a word. So, I asked my mom to take pictures of every side of me, front, back and sideways. That way, I could see what THEY were seeing. Apparently, when I saw these photos, I looked like a MINOTAUR. Yes, a friggin' HALF MAN, HALF HORSE....my ASS was this huge bustle-MESS, that jutted out from my body about 2 feet. I nearly passed out. I cringed, and said, "Ohhhhhhh..." for lack of anything else to say.
So...I very nearly burst into tears, the back of the top looked all messed up, bunched up around the bottom of the corset-laced area, the seamstress wasn't even DONE working on it yet, it still had PINS all over it, and she kept badmouthing the seamstress in Michigan about how "bad" the sewing was in the first place, and how "none of the other seamstress coworkers of hers would even touch it," so SHE took it home and worked on it herself. (As though I was going to reward her with a cookie or something)? She acted like she was the savior and I should kiss her feet...which, of course, I will never do for ANYBODY.
I said to her, "The seamstress in Michigan did the best she could by creating this top from scratch, without a pattern, and without ME there to be fitted for it. She did the best she could. YOU, however, have had this for nearly one full MONTH, and it's STILL not DONE yet? It looks AWFUL!!" She said, "Well let me keep it until the end of next week..." and I said, "NO!! MY WEDDING IS IN 12 DAYS!! I WILL NOT DO THAT. I CAME TO GET IT NOW." She said, "Well you'll need a second fitting anyway, so you might as well come back." I looked at her with daggers in my eyes, and I walked over to the calendar on the wall, pointed to the day with my name on it, and right underneath my name were the words "SECOND FITTING." I said evenly, as calmly as I could, "This IS my second fitting, and I will NOT be coming back to this place EVER AGAIN, so I want my dress FIXED, and I want it NOW." So she asked if I would come back in a few hours so that she can finish some things....she didn't even put a GUSSET in the damned thing like she was supposed to. I was so ANGRY and UPSET, I wanted to pinch her head off and step on it a few hundred times.
The mom's and I decided to go to lunch. I was fighting back tears, but I didn't want to ruin my two mom's day by acting like some kind of Bridezilla. But HELLO, my dress was RUINED, what the hell was I gonna do?! Both of them gently told me that they wanted my dress to be pretty and enhance me, not fit like a potato sack, (which it did), and that the skirt was just too big around for the top, and they didn't want to hurt my feelings, but Florence offered to go buy me a brand new dress because neither one of them wanted me to wear this one at all. I thanked Florence for offering, but declined...she's always trying to buy me everything, and there's no need. (She has a very generous heart, but often gets taken advantage of for it, so I never want to be like those other people who have done that to her, so every time she offers me something like that, I decline it politely). I love her dearly though.
So, we picked up the dress, after I tried it on again, hating it even MORE because it STILL looked like SHIT---and the seamstress actually made some kind of comment about how most of the brides she deals with are "tiny, thin 20-something's," (she might as well have said I was a fat old broad), and THEN the hag actually had the AUDACITY after all this to give me TWO comment cards, and asked if I would send them in to her boss with a nice comment or two, so that she looked good. I stood there, smiling devilishly, blinking my eyes and saying sarcastically, "Oh sure....sure, I'll send in the card with some comments....oh yes....no problem." This chick was so goddamned obtuse and oblivious, she thanked me and said I would get a discount on my NEXT alteration if I did. I said quietly, "I've stated previously and I will repeat it now, I will never come back to this place again. But thanks anyway."
So on the way home, my two mom's and I decided this dress was trashed, ruined, and could never be fixed in time for me to wear it. I was still near tears the whole damned day, and this only pushed me over the edge. I took the mom's home, and said, "I am going out to find an BUY a new wedding dress. I will not come home until I have one TODAY."
I drove first to the DEB store, since they often have prom-like dresses that are rather inexpensive, and even carry larger sizes for real women. I found one that I thought would work, it was pretty and long, mostly white, with silver along the top edge, with spaghetti straps. Unfortunately, they looked online and contacted other stores, but didn't have my size. I walked over to another store in the mall, "Black and White," but they don't have my size at all. Then I drove to Alfred Angelo, but they were closed...so then I broke down and went to the last resort store, David's Bridal. (They are the most expensive, so I avoided that until last). I've been inside that store before and the sickening dysfunctional feeling I got while there made me want to avoid it like the plague.
I don't know if you've ever had the experience, but there are skinny bubble-headed barbie doll 20-something's roaming about like vultures, ready to pounce on you to make their commission. They smile and tell you that EVERY dress you try on looks great, and they are WORSE than car salesmen. I cannot stand it. But, I gritted my teeth, walked in the door, and confronted this chick head-on.....I was NOT in the mood for the bullshit. I said to her, "Hi, I am here to buy a dress, so you WILL get a commission off me, IF you give me what I want, in the price range that I want, that FITS ME without ANY alterations." She blinked several times, unsure how to proceed. I said, "So listen up. This is what I want. Don't waste my time bringing me dresses that are over $300 bucks, because that's not going to happen. I want a dress that is MY size, in WHITE, under that price range. Got it?" She balked a little bit at my straight-forwardness, but she gathered a few together and brought them to the fitting rooms.
There are no mirrors in the fitting rooms, however. Nope, all the mirrors are on the OUTSIDE of the doors, and all around the room, so that everybody in the whole place can see you in the dress. I find this to be rather discomforting. I don't WANT everybody in the place to see me in a dress, it's none of their business. I don't LIKE that aspect of it one bit. They do not deserve one moment of my time or energy, and I don't care to share my wedding moments with total strangers. But, there I was, sick to my stomach, upset about my other dress, trying on all these new dresses, thinking Pete is going to kill me for this....
She brought me 8 dresses. Six of them were over $500 bucks. I said to her, "What don't you understand about the price range of $300-$400 dollars?" So she brought me two more. I had said to her, "Go to the brides maid dress section. Find me a white dress that is tea-length and ON SALE, in my size." Of course, they don't OFFER white bridesmaid dresses...who would?! So, that was a bust. Then I said, "This last one you brought me is OFF-WHITE. I need a pure WHITE dress." Then I asked her, "What time do you close tonight?" And she said, "Nine o'clock." I said, "If you keep wasting my time like this, hon, we'll be here until 10. Now please, go get me the dress, I'm in no mood to keep trying on these overpriced dresses that don't fit me right, so let's just get this shit overwith, okay?"
Finally she brought me a short dress, (I told her it was an outdoor wedding and I didn't want to pass out from the heat in a heavy huge long dress that made me sweat and melt my make-up). So, the short dress fit me like a glove, and though the price was $450, I went ahead and got it. At that point I was just DONE with the whole stupid mess. I just wanted a stupid dress that I would wear for THREE OR FOUR HOURS OF MY LIFE, but this wonderful $75 dollar dress that I had bought FIRST turned out to finally cost me $50 for the first alteration, then $180 for this ruined alteration, PLUS this new dress at $450. So....you do the math. What a fucking RACKET this wedding shit is, I tell ya. I'm just too damned old for this crap. Unbelievable.
But, I did get the dress, and now it's hanging in my closet, in the nice white bag, waiting.
I was so ready to get shit-faced that night, I can't even describe the moment any better than that. But, the crisis was averted, and I got a dress that I like, and hey, I can have it dyed afterwards and wear it all over the place. It's really pretty, simple, no frills....but it does have a bolero jacket with it, that has a nice ruffle around the neck area. I think it will look snazzy. There is no corset back, unfortunately, like I really wanted. But, at this point I don't really give a rat's ass what it looks like, I just want this whole thing to be OVERWITH.
When Pete and I get into our hotel room in San Francisco, I'm dialing room service for some BOOZE, and I'm going to jump on the bed screaming my head off, trashing the place. Weddings are stressful beasts, and I am ready for it to be DONE.
Other than that, it's been peachy. I'm one week away, the weather forecast says RAIN on my wedding day, and I'm at the point where I just don't fucking CARE anymore about anything. Mostly I am just exhausted.
Enter Bridezilla, stage left.
Bye for now.
Love, Becky
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