Wedding dress update

[cosmolinguist]

"When you take your shower," Mom said yesterday morning, "you'll have to shave under your arms."

"Becuase you can see them?" I asked. It was about forty degrees outside; I wasn't planning on anything that included visible armpits.

"Well, yes you'll be able to, when you're trying on dresses."

"Oh, we're doing that again?" I said with a little nod.

"Why do you think I asked you to look up the bridal shop in Mankato?"

"I didn't know you planned on going today, that's all. No big d—"

"Of course we are. You need something. Right? And we talked about this yesterday, remember?"

"Okay, okay." It really had just slipped my mind.

She sighed and threw her hands up in the air. "I don't know, Holly—the way you're acting, it's almost as if you don't even want a wedding!"

Looking back now, I wonder if this is where the day started to go downhill.

I managed to not say anything to this, for which I am glad. But I couldn't stop thinking "Almost as if I don't want a wedding"? ALMOST? How is it almost? I think it's exactly like that! And you know it is! I've told you!

I hadn't even been planning on taking a shower that morning. I looked at my armpits: not bad, actually. I think I've shaved them in the past few weeks.

After our tasty lunch, I surveyed the situation. Things were looking pretty good for me. After the above conversation with my mom and spending much of the church service wondering idly how I can make a church wedding somehow palatable to Andrew and me, I'd lost all my ability to be okay with trying on dresses. But I could still hope that my unprepared parents couldn't find the dress shop, or that it'd be closed on Sundays.

It was disappointingly easy to find, but it was also closed. I rejoiced.

A couple of hours later, my repeated suggestion to just get one of the dresses we saw yesterday finally seemed to sink in. Mom said something like, "We could make an appointment one evening this week and go back to Rochester. Do you want to do it like that?"

I made agreeful noises, but I narrowed my eyes; "Rochester," we both knew, meant the dress she really liked because the dress I really liked was in Owatonna. Not only had she unilaterally made a decision about this, but she was trying to be all sneaky about it, just insert it casually into the discussion.

It didn't surprise me that I was ambivalent about the dress she really liked, and vice versa. Sod's law, as you Britishes say. Par for the course, my mom would say.

What did surprise me, and enrage me, is that I was mistaken on that "vice versa" thing. The dress I liked was out of the question, and had been since the moment I tried it on. I just didn't know this.

I only know now, basically, because I heard her talking to a couple of her friends on the phone last night. It turns out that the dress I like, like so many of the others, is too boobylicious.* Unacceptably so, in fact.

I remember greenflower remarking that many wedding dress styles were annoyingly low-cut. She found this counterintuitive: if there was ever a day when she didn't want to show off her boobs, it was the day when she was officially taking them off the market.

I, of course, hadn't really noticed the boobage. I don't care about stuff like that nearly as much as my mom does. One of the reasons she took back the first dress she bought to wear to my wedding was that "it shows too much cleavage." I don't even think that's possible considering that the neckline didn't dip down to the point where her breasts, y'know, cleave. The dress showed an expanse of collarbone.

No wonder she went crazy at the strapless dresses then. Well, she hates strapless dresses anyway, at least partially because she hates strapless bras. (I wonder if she's ever tried one, though.) I learned that when shopping for prom dresses; all the strapless ones were out of the question.

No wonder she kept foisting things with sleeves onto me. After the second or third strapless dress she said "But won't you get cold? In January?" which seemed ridiculous to me. I wouldn't be jumping around the snow in it. And most things with sleeves either had very short sleeves or long transparent sleeves, neither of which would do much to stave off hypothermia.

I tried pointing this out to the lady in the second bridal shop in an attempt to be witty and get her on my side versus my silly mother; she replied, "Well, you'll look warmer. It'd be more appropriate for the season."

I was surrounded by nutcases.

I really hope Mom hasn't actually dismissed all the strapless dresses out of hand, because that'll make this already-Sisyphean task even worse. As I said, many of the dresses are strapless (and many of the ones with straps may as well be), so that already severely limits things. Not only that, shoulders are too broad to fit into most things with a fitted top (this is the problem I had with my mom's dress, which is what sent us on this merry romp in the first place). And my arms are too fat to fit into anything with sleeves. Except, of course, the one with long gauzy sleeves that my mom currently considers the best option for the dress I'll end up with.

The thing that irritates me most, though, is that I had no idea of it at the time. I bothered to become quite fond of a dress only to find out it's out of the question. I looked at other dresses with a totally different perspective than Mom (the one with the checkbook) is using.

Can't wait to see what happens next.

---

* I'm paraphrasing. She says "Holly's just too big on top."

Comments

[angel-thane.livejournal.com]

If you go to Rochester, you'd best be taking the ferry across to The City. 'nuff said.

Secondly, just remind your mother that it's your wedding. And then tell her that if the two of you can't find a dress you can both accept (ie your choice) that you're prefectly happy just wearing jeans. ;)

And it's completely intuitive to show off clevage on the day you take them off the market (not that you're doing that though) - lotteries always make a big show about how much money somebody just won, and high end merchandise is always feted when it becomes more exclusive... besides, this way Andrew can go 'neener neener, mine now!' and stick his tongue out at the quavering masses.

[tubewalker.livejournal.com]

Have whatever dress you damn want, it's your wedding.

[angel-thane.livejournal.com]

My wedding?

*sigh* a bride's always the last to know these days.

[cosmolinguist]

Well, my friend thought it was counterintuitive. And my mom's friend says that her son's fiancée has been complaining of the same thing. I see things more like you do (though I didn't think of the lottery thing; I like that, though), but then I'm not the one who's having a problem with the cleavage.

[angel-thane.livejournal.com]

If they don't like clevage, they're perfectly welcome to wear whatever dress they want. (except the bridesmaids, that's your call, but then again, you may not be doing things traditionally with that either)

[paper-crystals.livejournal.com]

Your mother is holding the checkbook. Take out a fucking loan. No. Seriously. Take out a fucking loan.

[sporksoma.livejournal.com]

I'd be willing to give your mother a call and tell her to get off your back because it is really bothering you to the point of where you're wanting to call off the wedding.

And then I'd run and hide and cry, because the phone is scary. Who knows what terrors lurk on the other side of it. -=shudder=-

[cosmolinguist]

I must seem badly off indeed, if I'm eliciting such offers of help already—I know how scary phones are.

I'm okay, though. I haven't really found a dress or anything worth fighting over to that degree yet.

[mcsnee.livejournal.com]

This sounds miserable.

[mllesarah.livejournal.com]

You could be like Allison and wear a shawl with your dress. She actually needed it because it was cold, but you could get away with taking it off after a while. Just a thought.

I'm leaving today, so good luck with all this. I hope you and your mom figure out a way to work all this out to a point where neither of you are completely dissatisfied.

[cosmolinguist]

That is a good thought.

I didn't know you were leaving quite so soon—good luck with your job, and I hope you have fun seeing your friends and being French again! (My parents told me Saturday they are hoping you don't get burned up in a riot or anything. :-))

[hephaestos.livejournal.com]

This reminds me quite a bit of my own wedding. I finally decided it was easier to just accept that it was the mother-of-the-bride's day. The bride and I, her father, my parents, more or less inconsequential.

Take heart in the fact that it will eventually be over. :)

[toastedtuna.livejournal.com]

That's so wrong. I will never understand why the mothers of the bride have to be that way. They've already HAD their own wedding days, so why can't they relax when it comes to the kids? I just don't get it.

And am more glad than ever that we eloped.

[cieo.livejournal.com]

Wow. And I thought my Korean mother was conservative. Even she let me go to my prom in a strapless.

I really hope that you get the dress you want. Fight for it, if you can't fight your way out of the wedding.

[cosmolinguist]

It's not even just conservativeness (though she certainly has that), I think she's actually trying to do me a favor. Deciding, knowing that strapless dresses (or anything that requires a strapless bra) is EVIL, she's trying to spare me the experience of having to deal with them.

But then, this is all speculation, and probably wrong. Something tells me I could speculate about my mom's thoughts until the heat-death of the universe and still not guess right.

[showmehowyou.livejournal.com]

All this drama about a dress...but what about your HAIR?!? I can only assume you are growing it out so you can put all kinds of fluffy bunnies in it for the wedding.

But seriously...if you don't find a dress soon, tell your mom you will find something in Chicago. Our spare room is ready for guests. I have friends here who are/have done the wedding thing on the cheap and could help you find a dress that doesn't suck and costs less than a new car. Think about it...

[angel-thane.livejournal.com]

A wig! We must all find Holly a wig!!!

[cosmolinguist]

tell your mom you will find something in Chicago

Wow! That'd be fun. What a cool offer. I will definitely consider it.

And good luck finding a wig. :-)

[davmoo.livejournal.com]

Unless it gets to the point where you just can't stand it, have two weddings like you're already planning, and put up with you mother the best you can. She only has one daughter (you) and probably figures this is going to be her only chance to throw a Grand Wedding.

This is how almost every wedding I've ever heard about has gone...the mother of the bride decides everything.

[quuf.livejournal.com]

Tell Mom you've decided on a biker wedding. You and Andrew can wear 'wifebeaters' and leather jackets -- no need to shave armpits -- and at the climax of the service, the 'celebrant' will solemnly anoint your heads with a can of motor oil.

Just kidding. Poor you. ;-)

[cosmolinguist]

I hear motor oil is very good for the hair...

[toastedtuna.livejournal.com]

"It's my wedding, Mom. I'm the bride. Me. I'll look for something in your price range, but that's as far as it's going. I'm not buying a dress that YOU like simply because YOU are paying for it. If we can't agree, then fine. I'll wed in a white track suit."

Then head to the sporting goods store.

ooo

[zammis.livejournal.com]

that's sounds comfy.

Dont forget white Chuck Taylors to go with. :)

Mrs Bartolozzi

[(Anonymous)]

I think I see you standing outside but it's just your shirt hanging on the washing line, waving its arm as the wind blows by. And it looks so alive, nice and white, just like it's climbed right out of my washing machine, washing machine, washing. Slooshy sloshy, slooshy sloshy, get that dirty shirty clean. Slooshy sloshy, slooshy sloshy, make those cuffs and collars gleam, everything clean and shiny. Washing machine, washing machine, washing machine....

Re: Mrs Bartolozzi

[toastedtuna.livejournal.com]

Oooooooooo! Another Kate Bush fan, I presume?