Who knew trying on dress after dress could be so tiring?
How do celebrities do it when it comes to the awards season? Meeting with endless designers, attending countless runway shows or pouring over hundreds of sketches and what not? Then attending a handful of fittings? It is soooo tiring?
I performed my first official duty as the Maid of Honor today: Dress shopping for both the bride and the bridesmaids. Believe it or not, I think we found the wedding dress for the bride herself. It looks gorgeous on her. I don’t care what she says. It’s absolutely gorgeous. Her fiancee is a lucky, lucky man. And no, I’m not just saying that because the bride is my sister.
The hunt for the bridesmaid dress, however, is a completely different story. Oh. My. God. It is literally going to take us 5 million years to find a style the bride doesn’t like. At one point, I tried on every single gown she had brought me. She asked how many were left in my fitting room. I told her at least 20. 20? Yes, 20. There was only one she flat out told me to get rid of, because she is not going to ever like that style of gown.
Honestly, the attendant waiting on us should have brought me every single bridesmaid gown in a size 4 and 6 they had available in the store. That would have been far more efficient.
Sooooo many dresses. Soooo many bright colors. Soooo many similar styles. Sooooo soooo sooooo many times I put on a dress, and afterwards, took it off. I was a pro at hanging those beasts up on the hangar in a matter of seconds. I probably should have been walking around the store with nothing but my underwear on. I literally was jumping in and out of dresses within a matter of seconds.
Let’s say this right now. My sister is very detail oriented and everything has to be in her control. Especially with her wedding. She’s my sister. I lover her with all my heart. I will perform my duties as MOH without a complaint or second thought. I’m there to help the bride and make the whole experience easier.
BUT, I’m going to throw this out there. When I am barely clothed in the middle of the store in a tiny fitting room surrounded by poofy, shiny, eye popping dresses and the store is full of hysterical, perfection-seeking brides-to-be….do not just open my fitting room door without letting me know. Knock first. Let me at least cover myself while you decide to enter the already too-small fitting room and make decision on bridesmaid dresses right then and there. Give me 5 minutes to put the next one on…and then, let’s play Survivor of the Dresses.
The decision to show my bare breasts off to total strangers is something I get to decide…not the bride of the wedding.
As weddings go, some of the dresses were really pretty and flattering. A couple I really really liked. For that reason alone, they will not be the number I wear come November. Other dress numbers, on the other hand, were so god awful. Of course, those were the ones my sister fawned over. “It’s so pretty. I love the cut. I just absolutely love it. It goes on the yes pile.”
Again…the yes pile wasn’t entirely effetctive when every single dress I put on is a ‘yes.’
If anything else was great about the day, it was the reactions every time I came out in a new dress. Everything I put on fit like a glove. I don’t actually realize how small my waist is until I have a dress highlighting just how small my waist is. I gawked at myself in the mirror a couple of times. I did notice other things, like my arms need to be toned up, my legs need some serious beauty attention (hello dull skin! Can’t help it…its winter). I must be freaking out about something. My back has been flaring up, and when you’re wearing nothing but strapless dresses, a woman’s back is constantly on display. It needs to be in tip top shape. Sweating profusely is not going to help.
Whatever dress is picked, I’m going to need massive work on my abdomen yet again. Need to keep a flat stomach in order to fit into whichever dress properly. Good thing I’ve been looking into great workout music, and I’m finding a lot of really good mix-ups.
Compliments from people in the store didn’t hurt matters either. Losing those random thirty pounds unintentionally has proven effective after all, and not just in the sense of making my pants baggy.
“It does no harm to the ego to be worshipped.” – Mae West. Indeed, the one and only.
Nothing much else to say today. I can’t even bring myself to flesh out the better parts of the day. I am honestly so tired from this afternoon and spending 5 hours in David’s Bridal doing nothing but putting on and taking off dress after dress. On top of that, my apartment is ungratefully hot and I am starting to sweat. Not so appealing right before crawling under the sheets to catch a night full of sleep.
Men have the easy part when it comes to weddings. They ask their closest pals to be their groomsmen. They walk into a bridal shop and get fitted for a suit. I know they went through the trouble of picking out an engagement ring, and then shelling out the dough to pay for it. Not a small feat, especially if the guy has been paying attention to the hints the girl has most certainly been dropping. The guys take care of getting the rings to the ring bearer. Mostly, the guy needs to stay out of the bride’s way and do whatever she tells him to do. Don’t look at her before she’s walking towards you down the aisle, and then smile through each and every photograph. Then, have the time of your life.
See? The guy’s portion is so much easier than the girl’s.
I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Getting dolled up for a wedding is an extravagant luxury of mine. It doesn’t happen often, so I’m going to enjoy the adventure taking place from now until November 3rd.
May the Force be with you all on this fine Sunday evening. I’m going to shut my eyes now, and hopefully not see each and every dress I tried on today. Tonight, I hope for total darkness.
Robert Downey, Jr. can make an appearance any time he wants. He’s always welcome.