Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Ok I have an idea...
Can't I just pick out bridesmaid dresses instead? I am thinking brown and pink ,or green and pink, who knows...
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
28 and counting...
Weddings breed a certain type of insanity all their own. Sometimes it's family. Sometimes it's money. Sometimes it's religion. And sometimes, it's the clothes. Hands down, there is no experience in the world quite like shopping for, paying for, and getting fitted for The Dress. "It's up there with the exquisite pain of root canal, and the agony of Thanksgiving at your long lost Aunt's house. Horrors one must endure, but which are hopefully forgotten, after they're over."
The last thing I wanted to do was go to a big poofy bridal shop with Big Poofy Dresses and Big Poofy People. Picture the scene: You enter a locker-room sized space, whose walls are lined with individually wrapped, white, glowing creatures, hanging gently in the undulating breeze of the heater fan. Like Odysseus, the Sirens call to you. They mesmerize you. They enrapture you. And they all look the same. Oh God. I'll never make it out of here alive. You look around for someplace to hide, something to shelter you from the onslaught, but there is nothing but White. Panic sets in, and the sounds of the foreign creatures gets louder and louder, ringing in your ears until a mirage of soft silk and delicate satin begins to swim before your eyes. Next thing you know you picked dresses and your in a small fitting room, and you turn around to find ... five wedding dresses hanging on the hook. Carefully, you approach, touching only the slips of paper on the sleeves that read "$800, $699, etc." and that's cheap? (so they say)
before you know it, you're outside of your Satin Cell, standing on a dais in front of the biggest, most flaw enhancing 12 way mirror you've ever seen, brides, zipped up snugly in perfect dresses glide by.... am I awake?
The last thing I wanted to do was go to a big poofy bridal shop with Big Poofy Dresses and Big Poofy People. Picture the scene: You enter a locker-room sized space, whose walls are lined with individually wrapped, white, glowing creatures, hanging gently in the undulating breeze of the heater fan. Like Odysseus, the Sirens call to you. They mesmerize you. They enrapture you. And they all look the same. Oh God. I'll never make it out of here alive. You look around for someplace to hide, something to shelter you from the onslaught, but there is nothing but White. Panic sets in, and the sounds of the foreign creatures gets louder and louder, ringing in your ears until a mirage of soft silk and delicate satin begins to swim before your eyes. Next thing you know you picked dresses and your in a small fitting room, and you turn around to find ... five wedding dresses hanging on the hook. Carefully, you approach, touching only the slips of paper on the sleeves that read "$800, $699, etc." and that's cheap? (so they say)
before you know it, you're outside of your Satin Cell, standing on a dais in front of the biggest, most flaw enhancing 12 way mirror you've ever seen, brides, zipped up snugly in perfect dresses glide by.... am I awake?
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