I had my first wedding dress fitting today. I’m not sure what I would have done if my friend (and bridesmaid), Mandy, wasn’t able to be there. Because, really, DO the shoes look okay with the dress? How much boobage is too much boobage? And do I really walk THAT weird in flats?
I do everything by committee nowadays.
In the end, though, only a little blood was shed (yes, blood WAS shed. A pin caught me on the way out of the dress – who said this was going to be a painless process?!), and I’m off the hook for a few weeks until fitting number two. Until then, I am under strict orders not to gain or lose an ounce. Did I mention that I tend to lose weight when under stress? When I moved in May, I lost five pounds. When I was a deb way, way, WAY back in 2001 they had to do an emergency fitting to keep me from flashing the masses during my full court bow.
Not that my physical body ever really changes. I’ve been the same size for the last fifteen years or so (yes, the aforementioned deb gown still fits) – I just randomly lose weight in areas that effect the way a dress hangs on my frame. And now that I’ve vocalized that here on my blog, my body will most likely do something else that I’m not expecting. Because my body and I are rarely on speaking terms anyway, and it likes to go traitor on me and do things to keep me on my toes. Like today, for example. My neck and upper back are killing me. Why? I dunno. But it sucks – especially when driving and changing lanes. I think it is my body’s way of reminding me that thirty is just over a year away, and my warranty ran out a good ten years ago.
Blah.
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