“I’m definitely going to need to get this altered,” I said to the shop assistant as I tried on my bridesmaid dress for my cousin Jennifer’s wedding. I’ve been waiting weeks for it and had to pay extra to get it from the U.S. in time for the wedding in September.
“You’re slightly too big for a size 1, and too small for a size 3, but we always order dresses too big rather than too small because it’s easy to take the in, but they can’t be let out.” They told me. “Just make sure that you wear a the strapless bra you plan to wear on the day when you take the dress to get altered.”
Awkward silence. “Oh.”
I think I probably could have fit in the size 1, but they didn’t have any in the shop when I ordered my dress, so we didn’t know for sure.
As it was, I pretty much looked like I was wearing a burlap sack, only not burlap coloured. I was swimming in it. Kind of like when I tried my dress for Lauren’s (my exchange student and host sister) wedding. It too was ordered from the U.S., again in a size 3. The rest of the bridal party tried their dresses on and looked fantastic, where as I looked absolutely ridiculous in mine.
A couple weeks and minus a couple yards of fabric later, it looked great.
I took my new dress, which I can’t describe to you or show you a picture of because what fun is a wedding if everyone already knows what the bridal party is wearing?, to an alterations shop and put it on.
“That is big on you,” she lady told me when I emerged from the changing room holding up the strapless dress so my lack of boobs didn’t hang out. Not that they could hang out, since they are virtually non-existent, but you know what I mean.
She pinned both sides and folded about a mile of the bottom up, courtesy of my short legs, before pinning that as well.
“Can you put the straps on too?” I asked her, pointing to the optional spaghetti straps that came with the dress, folded up in plastic bag attached to the tags.
“After it’s taken in, you won’t need the straps to hold the dress up.”
“I know, I just look ridiculous in strapless dresses.”
Ignoring all of the pinned up material that was hanging out everywhere, I looked in the mirror. Phew, it was much better.
“Now I just need some boobs to fill it out.” I said jokingly.
“You can wear a strapless bra,” the lady told me.
“Oh,” she said, as her cheeks turned an embarrassed shade of red.
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Copyright 2013 Sheri Thomson