On being a bridesmaid

I figure the psychological wounds from being fitted for the bridesmaid's dress have almost healed, so I can post about getting the dress without having to curl up in a fetal position in the corner and weep.

As many of you know from reading the blog or following me on the Facebook or the Twitter, David's Bridal is my personal hell. It's loud, too bright, has too many mirrors and too princess-y. In fact, I hate the whole "bridal industry" for selling women an ideal that they will never obtain. Anyway, I went there to get fitted for a dress for my friend's wedding a few years back. The consultant we had at that time made me feel ugly and unattractive when she pointed out that my arms "look like sausages" and that I am obviously not the "pretty" one in the bridal party. After that incident (which cost a helluva lot of money to have someone call me fat and ugly--I can get that for free), I swore I would never, ever set foot in that store again.

Fast forward to my sister's wedding. I understand why my sister went with David's Bridal; the other bridesmaids live in other states and it makes sense to pick a chain for everyone to get her dress. However, this meant I would have to go back to the place I abhor so much.

So I put it off. I got texts from my sister to go get fitted. I ignored them. Finally, my dad took me out to David's Bridal the Saturday that concluded February Break, as my car was in the shop. As I drove out there, I started to get nervous. What if I didn't fit into anything? What if the consultants told me that I was unworthy to even be in the store because I was so horribly ugly and I couldn't be in the wedding because they would euthanize me for my appearance? Oh, if only I were a better person who only ate tiny portions of vegetables all the time; worked out two hours a day; and didn't drink wine with my friends! These thoughts, dear reader, were going through my head and I HATED myself for it. I hated myself for being my goofy imperfect me and I hated myself for buying into the hype that I let these people tell me that I am unattractive.

Anyway, I waltz into David's Bridal, expecting to try on the dress and get the hell out. No. As it turns out I needed an appointment to be tortured, even though my sister picked out the bridesmaid's dresses MONTHS ago. While I should've had an appointment, I was told, the consultant behind the counter supposed she could squeeze me in for a fitting in an hour.

After tooling around the very awesome art supply store in Southtown, I went back and was allowed to have my fitting. They didn't have my size in stock, so I had the option of getting a size smaller or getting three sizes up, as that was the next biggest. I opted for the smaller size, as I could already imagine how much it would cost to have this thing tailored to fit if it were way too big.

I took the dress into the fitting room, stripped down and tried to put it on myself. The zipper in the back was twisted, so I couldn't do it up. After struggling, I gave up, held the dress up in front to cover myself and opened the door to get someone to help.

I really didn't expect a whole family to be lined up outside the fitting room. As my door opened, 10 pairs of eyes focused on me, as I stood there holding up the dress to cover my topless self. Apparently, the family was with a bride-to-be who was changing in the dressing room next to me. The men of the family had long beards and wore camouflage hats. All I could think is "Great. Duck Dynasty is here to see me naked."

I flagged over a consultant to zip me up. She blamed me for the twisted zipper, which I maintain is NOT my fault, as probably a bunch of other people tried on the dress that day, as I was told "it is a popular style for this year's prom season." She then scurried away.

Notice the forced smile and all my tattoos. I'm not sure the tattoos were taken into account when my sister chose the dress.

The dress fit okay, although, if I tried to do the YMCA or bent over to pick something up, I was totally gonna pop out.

I then spent 15 minutes trapped in the dress, as I couldn't undo the zipper on my own. Finally, I pulled a David's Bridal employee over to help break me out. She informed me that before I was liberated from the gown, I would have to be "measured." I told her I didn't understand why--the damn dress fit! She said that it was procedure and she measured me as I lifted up my arms and such and almost flashed Duck Dynasty. She then asked how I was doing. "Not bad for someone who has lost her dignity," I responded.

After I got back in my street clothes, I went to pay. I found out that my dress will be in on April 21st, which is five days before the wedding. I hope that my body doesn't drastically change before then, as I won't have time to have the thing altered. I shouldn't have procrastinated. I really shouldn't have.

On my way home, I noticed that the junk store which formerly had the pink gorilla suit, had a new costume displayed next to their sandwich board sign.

"I heard it on the grapevine..."

I maintain that it would have been a far better option for me to buy the California Raisin costume and wear that to the wedding. Not only would it have been cheaper, both financially and emotionally, California is kind of like Florida (where my sister is going to marry), so I would be totally in theme. Most importantly, I wouldn't have to worry about flashing people because I would be totally covered.

Hmm...I wonder if David's Bridal will give me a refund.

My Plan Involving Sauna Pants

I finally was able to hang out with my best friend, Amy, yesterday. I hadn't seen her in almost two weeks. She came over for lunch and then we decided to head out to the Shops at West Ridge because we enjoy walking through and giving a running commentary on their stuff. Amy found a particularly small, creepy doll in a display case. The vendor had put the doll in a bag. She claimed that the tiny dolls are the most dangerous because they are so small they can't eat your hair--they eat your eyelashes. That's why it had to not only be locked up, but also put in a bag. This way, it can't get out to chew on your eyelashes while you sleep.

As we were walking through, I updated Amy on my sister's wedding. I don't believe I mentioned it here on the blog--my sister, Katie, is getting married in April. It's a destination wedding in Florida. I'm one of the bridesmaids. Anyhow, as I was telling Amy yesterday, I've put off buying the bridesmaid dress. One reason for my procrastination is that I really don't have the discretionary money to sink into the dress. The second, and probably more pressing reason, is that I really, really despise going to David's Bridal. It is my own personal hell. It's loud, it's bright, and it is very...princess-y. Last time I was a bridesmaid, the consultant at David's said my arms were  like "tattooed sausages". Why the hell am I paying someone a handsome fee to insult me? I've spent the last year trying to build up my self-esteem. I really don't need a bridal consultant to tear it down by telling me that my body is not beautiful because I don't fit into the standardized American perception of beauty.

So, I haven't gone to pick up the damn dress yet. However, I did come up with alternatives to the dress that I'm sure my sister will be totally willing to entertain:

1. The gorilla suit.* On the corner of Lake Avenue and Stonewood, there is this sketchy-looking variety store. Outside of said store is an A-frame sign and a pink gorilla suit. I'm thinking I can pick up that gorilla suit for mad cheap--it's been outside for most of the winter and is right outside the tattoo parlor. People from the tattoo parlor go outside and smoke by the gorilla; I'm sure it has an aroma.

I know the gorilla suit is not "malibu"; it's pink. However, I'm sure a gallon of Clorox to bleach the suit and some dye in bright blue will bring the suit up to the wedding's standards. Plus, I'm sure the gorilla suit is very sturdy and the fake fur wouldn't mat in the dryer or fall out or anything. I'm pretty sure this plan will work out well and I will be standing on the beach in Florida not looking like a deranged Sully from Monsters Inc. with alopecia.

"Hey, kids!"

As Amy pointed out yesterday, "Your sister says she is a 'beachy girl'. You just shrug and tell her you are a 'gorilla suit girl.' She'll understand and think it's awesome!"

2. My second plan was inspired by a post on Retronaut:

I love how he is looking so lovingly at his woman wearing sauna pants. People will look lovingly at me, too.

I think these sauna pants with a coconut bra (Amy pointed out that I would need a top). If you look at the picture, the pants have a straw attached. I could keep a pina colada in there or something and sip it during the wedding. Another option would be to keep Green Goddess dressing in the pants, fill up a fanny pack with crudite, and keep the pina colada in the coconut bra (this would have a straw, too). I would offer snacks and drinks to the guests during the wedding. People would be really impressed with my sister's ingenuity at having a one-woman buffet run around during the ceremony. And I'm sure these people would be grossed out at the idea of drinking Green Goddess dressing from a straw out of my sauna pants.

I bet I could get custom sauna pants in Malibu blue, too.

The other benefit of wearing the sauna pants would be that I would lose a ton of water weight. Then I could go to David's Bridal without having my self-esteem cut to shreds because the consultants would wonder at my svedlt body and want to know my secrets. Of course, at that point, the wedding would be over, so I wouldn't have to go to David's Bridal anyway; and the consultants will never know my secret!

As much as I want to be a "gorilla suit kind of girl", I think I'm definitely a "sauna pants and coconut bra kind of girl." Due to the frequency of Amy and my visit's to the Shops on West Ridge, I'm pretty sure I will find these sauna pants. Hey, maybe the sketchy variety store carries them!

I bet my sister is going to read this post and think I'm freaking brilliant.

To the other bridesmaids who already bought the dress which I know we can't return: I'm really sorry that you already bought the dress and that my sister is having you go buy sauna pants from the 1970s. Get your money's worth from the bridesmaid dress and spend the next 10 Halloweens as a princess.

Just sayin'.

*My husband first posited the gorilla suit as an alternative to the bridesmaid's dress about a month ago. I can't take credit for the idea--just the idea of bleaching the hell out of it and dying it Malibu.

Don't call it a comeback, or The Last Three Weeks of My Life

I had in my head that I was going to take an indefinite break from blogging because I felt that I had really have nothing to say and, besides, who reads blogs anyway? With some encouragement from my friend, Amie*, this weekend, I'm back blogging.

Much has happened in the past few weeks. First off, I've done a lot of crafting. I used to crochet all the time, but I found that I burned out on it. I've since been doing embroidery. I think I like embroidery better because I have to focus on it more. There are pics of recent projects on my Instagram. My proudest recent project is the polar bear I stitched for my cousin in the UK.

Second, I found out that the dojo where Charlie and I go for karate is closing its Brighton location at the end of the month. I credit karate with my change in attitude (I'm much more positive then I've ever been) and my change in fitness. When we received the letter, both Charlie and I were very upset. We are now trying to plan out what our next steps are. I don't want to give up exercising. I actually enjoy it!**

Third, and this is a minor point, our cats have colds. I mention this because cats do not have good hygiene, so they don't cover their noses when they sneeze. I've caught them sneezing into the communal food bowl. One sneezed in my face. This circles back to the Tabby Lobby, I'm sure, in some way. Anyhow, two of the three cats have colds and sneeze all the time and have runny noses.

Fourth, I went to a used book store this past weekend. That will be a story for another day.

Thanks, dear reader, for taking the time to read my blog. I appreciate it.

*Thanks for your encouragement, Amie. I appreciate it.

**I never thought I would type that sentence. It's true, though.

Update!

Hi, all,

I know I've been quiet for the past week or so because I was away for work. I thought I would re-enter the blogosphere with updates on book cover conversations and "adult themes" as of late.

1. Adult themes: As you may remember from an earlier post, we had the roof replaced on our house. It is an "adult theme," as it was an expensive and angst-ridden process for me. Currently, the same contractor is replacing the ceiling in the room where the roof leaked. All the furniture and my crafting supplies are in the living room. Every time I travel the small path through the living room, Tom Petty sings in my brain,"You don't have to live like a refugee".

Anyhow, as my friend Amy pointed out yesterday, home improvement is a lot like Johnny's mom in Johnny Dangerously. There's always something else going wrong that you have to fix or replace. ("Kim, it's your house's insulation: it has shrunk so much, it's not doing its job. We need to replace it.").

2. Book covers: As I was cleaning out stuff from the craft room, I came across this book:

I didn't say that all my reading was intellectually-driven. Sometimes, I 'm content with the literary equivalent of a bag of potato chips.

Immediately, I thought the cover model of After Glow looked familiar:

This made me realize that Rick Springfield is a popular cover model. Why is this?

Upon reflecting on other "judging books by their covers" posts, I thought of this again:

 

I think I have to take back my comment about the Gremlin. I think Mary is holding the first Furby on the prairie. The manner in which the other young women are fawning over it indicated to me that this book is about the first Furby craze that swept the country in the 1800s.

Also, I need to apologize about my first blog post about Little Town on the Prairie. My friend, Amie, pointed out that Mary is blind and that Williams is depicting her blindness. She is not possessed, as I had hoped, as I thought it would be a far better story. Therefore, the moral of the story is that I'm a big jerk.

So, in a nutshell, this was my past week. I'm back to blogging daily now, my friends.

Judging Books By Their Covers

Sometimes, I don't need to add commentary to rather unfortunate book covers. They just...are.

Alien Secrets by Annette Curtis Klause is a book for teens. It might be the best book ever written, but none of my students (or myself) will read it. I don't think it ever circulated in the 15 years it was in the library. Having said that, I do love the look of joy on this alien's face:

Coping with Date Rape and Acquaintance Rape is outdated; this is why it made the discard pile. We have better resources on the topic.

I really am put off by the fact that all young men are portrayed as "the devil". When really puts this cover over the edge, though, is the devil's tail. Just...wow.

FYI--I am out of town next week and will update as I can.

Adult themes, or why I haven't updated my blog in awhile

My mom is an avid subscriber of TV Guide. She has been my whole life. I spent many hours of my childhood reading the movie descriptions in the back of the magazine. This is where I learned about "adult themes". Granted, I didn't know what it meant when I was a kid; I thought it was something taboo and exciting.

Now that I'm an adult, I have decided that "adult themes" actually means the crap you have to take responsibility for as a grown up. For example, having to put down your beloved pet cat that you had as a kitten because he is sick--that's an adult theme. Paying a $3500 vet bill for said beloved cat is another adult theme.

Over the past week, I've had several adult themes in my life. If you follow my blog, you will remember my tribute to a friend who passed away last week. That was Monday. On Wednesday, I found out that my father-in-law had a heart attack and was in the hospital. Over the weekend, the roof in my craft room started leaking. Upon talking to the contractor, we found out that we will have to replace the roof on our whole house.

Right now, my life has so many adult themes that it should be rated NC-17, or Not Suitable for Children Under 17.

Having said all that, I believe that these things aren't too bad. I refuse to get bogged down in negativity. The best thing for me to do is to deal with the situations and move on. As my Grandpa Clyde said when the doctor told him he was going to die, "Eh, whatcha gonna do?"

Mind you, this was three years ago and Grandpa Clyde is still alive. The upshot of the story is that your attitude affects how you handle things.

Tomorrow on the blog, I will be back to lampooning bad book covers. That's my promise to you, the consumer. :-)