Wednesday, June 24, 2009
After this coming Labor Day weekend, I will have been a bridesmaid twice, a flower girl twice (once at age 4, and again at age 28) and a maid of honor once. When I was a flower girl at age 4, my mom made my dress, and it was rocking. I mean, it wasn't as hold-the-phones awesome as the She-Ra costume she made me that Halloween (she made everything except the hard plastic weaponry!), but it was pink with an eyelet collar and lovely and totally the kind of thing these two undomesticated hands will never be able to make my own daughter some day.
Throughout my adult years, my closest friends - clearly BRIDEZILLAS one and all! - have had the audacity, the sheer nerve, THE GALL to choose affordable, flattering dresses from accessible color palates with zero gawdy detailing that I could actually wear again!! I know, I know. The brides and I are still talking - but barely, and only because I've been the bigger person.
But I mean, truly, if you are going to ask someone to be your bridesmaid, all you future brides out there, please don't half ass it. Really put them out, make them spend money their twenty-something salaries can't afford, and pitch a fit if they select jewelry not in keeping with what you had in mind. Enough of this rolling with the punches!! It's your special day - PUNISH ME FOR AGREEING TO BE A PART OF IT!!!
I have only ever been asked to purchase bridesmaid dresses from one of two locations:
After perusing their websites, if you aren't already familiar with them, I know you will understand my outrage.
Just once, I want to feel the burn of polyester under midday sun while standing for 30 minutes straight. Just once, I'd like to be directed to David's Bridal with the directions to get something with sleeves in puce!
When do I get to wear something your great aunt bedazzled? Why didn't you ever offer me something with armpit sweat stains that three other bridesmaids in your family have worn before me? Why can't you brides take time out from reserving caterers and hand-making wedding favors to arrange for me to get knocked up about 6 months before the ceremony and have the unfortunate luck of having to wear something like this:
Because when you're a knocked up bridesmaid, pistachio and a ribbon choker are really your only options so as to draw attention away from your shame.
And where are my toilet cleaner antler crowns?
When did I ever give you the impression I was above traditional New Jersey wedding garb?:
Why can't I show my respect for days gone by in the Old West when men were men and women were whores?:
Honestly, I don't think denim ever goes out of style:
Or lacy white plastic umbrellas, for that matter.
Franny, Kathleen, Leah and Monica - consider yourselves on friend probation. Until you can come up with better ways to humiliate me (since you've already blown your chances to do so on a bridesmaid level), I have nothing left to say to you. Just keep forcing your good taste and sensibility down my throat. Living in L.A. has made me immune to both. So ha!