Custom Dress Update- Bubble Time.
Okay. For those of you who have been not been following my dress opus, I am having it custom made, due to the fact that my body is borderline Elephant Man freakish. No offense, Elephant Man.
So I went last night for my final fitting in the muslin / cotton prototype material. Now, picture, if you can, this elegant lady walking down the street:
Hair askew from failure to run a brush through it since 7am.
Boobs akimbo from bra with only one functioning hook.
Carrying a veil in a garbage bag.
Carrying my Megabra in a plastic Lane Bryant shopping bag. And the bra is so big, it doesn't even fit. Aren't these bags made for big clothes? My bra is THAT big.
Wearing Spanx under my pants, because I changed into them at work, because I didn't want to suffer the embarrassment of having the ladies at the bridal shop call 911, due to the grunts and whimpering cries I make whilst donning said Spanx. Is it me, or should putting on Spanx be an Olympic sport? All I know is, I was sweating and cursing by the time I got them up.
Then I had to pee.
ANYway, to continue. As a result of wearing the Spanx under my pants, as I'm carrying all this other garbage, my pants start to recede down my a$$less a$$. I say it is a$$less because it really barely resembles an a$$, more like a few pounds of kneaded dough, settling in for the long ride down the back of my legs. So my pants start to fall. Now I'm walking like I have a serious case of the scoliosis, holding up my pants which are making a serious run for the border, and trying not to lose my bra, because god forbid one of those cups catches a gust of wind, and it's all over. Not to mention a serious danger to all aircraft and radar systems worldwide.
So I get into the bridal store, and Brenda, the lady I'm working with, has constructed two sleeves for me to cover my hamhocks. She had insisted on a meshy sleeve, and I wanted the solid. Needless to say, I looked like Tanya Harding in Brides on Ice Capades, so we're going with the solid sleeve.
I get into the dress, and things are looking WAY wrong. The WHOLE TOP fits wrong, and everything is pulling this way and that. So she starts to fiddle with the dress, which still has pins down the back, because it's just the prototype. So she looks at me really wierdly and says...
Are you dieting?
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Now, when we first started putting this dress together, she said I should 'stop' (funny) losing weight by mid-January. Since I just started on Jan. 2, I can hardly stop now. So what was I to do? I ask you?
Clearly, lying was my only option.
NO! I said. It must be the stress. All the running around. Post-Christmas natural deflation. My stomach has been bothering me. lielielielie.
Before you start being all Judgy Spice, I HAD to lie, because I just didn't want her to be put into a conversational position where she would have to say, 'You have to stop dieting, because otherwise, this dress will NOT fit right.'
In my mind, if I just keep dieting, and pretend to forget that she told me way back in the day that I had to stop, then she can just keep taking it in! And then I'm not guilty of deliberately doing what she told me not to do.
Is it possible I'm 36? I sound like I'm 12. I'll tell you, it's the same power of rationalization that has allowed me to eat full tubs of Ben and Jerry's at 11 pm without feeling sick or guilty. Well, what am I supposed to DO? I'm not getting my Calcium, and this ice cream is made with milk!! My bones NEED it!
The point of the story is, she starts pulling in the dress, and says, 'Something is going on. You're down an inch and a half.'
Secretly, I'm thrilled!!! My last appointment was 2 weeks ago, and that's since then. I mean, in all due respect, that's an inch and a half off a mile, so no biggie. But still, I'm pleased.
However, my dress? Not so pleased. The top now looks like a complete mess, and it totally doesn't fit anymore. I completely trust her to be able to fix it, but how many times? Am I screwing myself by lying? I'm getting crazy. But I'm convinced I can drop a good 20 more by the wedding, so I'm going for it.
The next fitting will be the REAL DRESS! They're making it out of the real silk now, so wish me luck.
Now, I am completely opposed to posting pics of myself online, and the top looks so horrible, I don't want to post it, because I know you guys will be all 'It looks GREAT!' , just to be nice, even though it's a major disaster, and then I won't be able to trust your opinions ever again, because I'll know you're just being nice. But I'm going to post one anyway, just because I want some bubble-bottom feedback. Do I lose the bubble? I actually like it, because I think it gives the bottom of the dress some volume, and then it goes in to the 'waist', and the volume of the bottom really does contribute to the illusion that there is, indeed, a waist on my body.
Again, remember, the top is totally jankdified, and a mess. My boobs are NOT 84 years old, and I don't intend to have a massive bunch of fabric all pinned up in the front.
and note- veil not mine- a friend offered it and her tiara to me for the wedding. I'm not sure if i'm going to use them.
Okay. Let me know.
Wow- it's a wierd feeling to be posting pics. I feel like I'm walking naked through the mall,you know?
So I went last night for my final fitting in the muslin / cotton prototype material. Now, picture, if you can, this elegant lady walking down the street:
Hair askew from failure to run a brush through it since 7am.
Boobs akimbo from bra with only one functioning hook.
Carrying a veil in a garbage bag.
Carrying my Megabra in a plastic Lane Bryant shopping bag. And the bra is so big, it doesn't even fit. Aren't these bags made for big clothes? My bra is THAT big.
Wearing Spanx under my pants, because I changed into them at work, because I didn't want to suffer the embarrassment of having the ladies at the bridal shop call 911, due to the grunts and whimpering cries I make whilst donning said Spanx. Is it me, or should putting on Spanx be an Olympic sport? All I know is, I was sweating and cursing by the time I got them up.
Then I had to pee.
ANYway, to continue. As a result of wearing the Spanx under my pants, as I'm carrying all this other garbage, my pants start to recede down my a$$less a$$. I say it is a$$less because it really barely resembles an a$$, more like a few pounds of kneaded dough, settling in for the long ride down the back of my legs. So my pants start to fall. Now I'm walking like I have a serious case of the scoliosis, holding up my pants which are making a serious run for the border, and trying not to lose my bra, because god forbid one of those cups catches a gust of wind, and it's all over. Not to mention a serious danger to all aircraft and radar systems worldwide.
So I get into the bridal store, and Brenda, the lady I'm working with, has constructed two sleeves for me to cover my hamhocks. She had insisted on a meshy sleeve, and I wanted the solid. Needless to say, I looked like Tanya Harding in Brides on Ice Capades, so we're going with the solid sleeve.
I get into the dress, and things are looking WAY wrong. The WHOLE TOP fits wrong, and everything is pulling this way and that. So she starts to fiddle with the dress, which still has pins down the back, because it's just the prototype. So she looks at me really wierdly and says...
Are you dieting?
Clearly, lying was my only option.
NO! I said. It must be the stress. All the running around. Post-Christmas natural deflation. My stomach has been bothering me. lielielielie.
Before you start being all Judgy Spice, I HAD to lie, because I just didn't want her to be put into a conversational position where she would have to say, 'You have to stop dieting, because otherwise, this dress will NOT fit right.'
In my mind, if I just keep dieting, and pretend to forget that she told me way back in the day that I had to stop, then she can just keep taking it in! And then I'm not guilty of deliberately doing what she told me not to do.
Is it possible I'm 36? I sound like I'm 12. I'll tell you, it's the same power of rationalization that has allowed me to eat full tubs of Ben and Jerry's at 11 pm without feeling sick or guilty. Well, what am I supposed to DO? I'm not getting my Calcium, and this ice cream is made with milk!! My bones NEED it!
The point of the story is, she starts pulling in the dress, and says, 'Something is going on. You're down an inch and a half.'
Secretly, I'm thrilled!!! My last appointment was 2 weeks ago, and that's since then. I mean, in all due respect, that's an inch and a half off a mile, so no biggie. But still, I'm pleased.
However, my dress? Not so pleased. The top now looks like a complete mess, and it totally doesn't fit anymore. I completely trust her to be able to fix it, but how many times? Am I screwing myself by lying? I'm getting crazy. But I'm convinced I can drop a good 20 more by the wedding, so I'm going for it.
The next fitting will be the REAL DRESS! They're making it out of the real silk now, so wish me luck.
Now, I am completely opposed to posting pics of myself online, and the top looks so horrible, I don't want to post it, because I know you guys will be all 'It looks GREAT!' , just to be nice, even though it's a major disaster, and then I won't be able to trust your opinions ever again, because I'll know you're just being nice. But I'm going to post one anyway, just because I want some bubble-bottom feedback. Do I lose the bubble? I actually like it, because I think it gives the bottom of the dress some volume, and then it goes in to the 'waist', and the volume of the bottom really does contribute to the illusion that there is, indeed, a waist on my body.
Again, remember, the top is totally jankdified, and a mess. My boobs are NOT 84 years old, and I don't intend to have a massive bunch of fabric all pinned up in the front.
and note- veil not mine- a friend offered it and her tiara to me for the wedding. I'm not sure if i'm going to use them.
Okay. Let me know.
Wow- it's a wierd feeling to be posting pics. I feel like I'm walking naked through the mall,you know?
