I’m going to do that thing you’re never supposed to do.
I’m going to say that I hate bridesmaid’s dresses. I can specifically say this because the bride and groom of the wedding I’m in next weekend would have allowed me to show up at the altar in a potato sack. Not only that, but they would have announced mid ceremony that everyone should stop laughing because I looked beautiful.
Otherwise, I couldn’t do this.
Bridesmaid Tip #1: Don’t’ criticize the bridesmaid’s dress. Just ever.
But yea…I hate bridesmaid’s dresses.
ALL of them.
Yes, I’m talking to you, you shiny bitch in the back that did that thing to my ass that I thought would look good but instead made the father of the bride ask if I was the one he had heard was smuggling moonshine in my dress. That was probably, maybe, definitely me, but there is no reason to be rude about it.
I have purchased more bridesmaid’s dresses than I’m willing to count. My bank account would have a heart attack if I did. Some of them I was able to select myself. You know, ideally something long, with a veil over my face and sleeves, and a high neck line so my cleavage doesn’t distract from the nuptials. Some were choose your own adventure style (“One dress, 16 styles!”). Some I was forced into. Some I had to force myself into, and while it wasn’t pretty, damned if I didn’t get the zipper locked and loaded.
Bridesmaid Tip #2: Spanks, duct tape, and olive oil will go a long way. Oh, and chopsticks. Don’t ask, just thank me later.
I recently was asked to purchase a bridesmaid’s dress. One that I actually found appealing in length, color, and general theme (it wasn’t itchy). A lot of people might say “I was recently asked to be in a wedding” but if anyone has been a bridesmaid, they’ll know the dress hogs all the attention anyway.
“I loved the color of your bridesmaid dresses!” –Aunt Sharon
“I can’t believe how pretty that fabric is!”—Grandma Gene
“That dress makes your tits look hawt!”—Someone’s Drunk Uncle
Can I get a GD, “Wow your bridesmaids looked really intelligent and strong. I bet they will be really supportive of your marriage. I can see why you picked them to stand up and affirm your love in front of all your friends and family,” Janet?
Anyway, I was recently asked to purchase a bridesmaid’s dress. Okay… actually I was asked to purchase a groomswoman’s dress, but if I go into that we’re going to forget what we were here for in the first place, if we haven’t already. Unfortunately, the move and a different wedding/hair/dress/nails had wiped my bank account. I’m 30, so I’m right in between “Will you be my bridesmaid?” and “Will you be a godmother?”, both of which are incredibly rewarding, a massive honor, and cost an arm and a leg. So, I took to the internets and found the dress I needed at an online consignment shop, like any good Midwesterner might.
I mean, it was my size, but it wasn’t my bridesmaid’s dress size.
Yea, that’s right.
Bridesmaid’s dresses don’t come in traditional dress sizes. They do, however, come in “what the fuck is this size?” sizes. The kind that freak you out and convince you to order 16 sizes too big, just to be careful. That’s because the bridesmaid dress shop owners have our number. They know it’s scary to go strapless in front of 63.5 eligible bachelors, and they know we can’t afford personal tailors because we’re in six weddings this year and we had to get our “eyebrows” waxed in case Jordan decides to make it an even 64 eligible bachelors. So, they convince you to buy a 28 when you really wear a 14 and then charge you three times the price of the dress to make it fit right.
Bridesmaid Tip #3: Don’t buy a dress 16 sizes too big. Buy the one that fits you, and lay off the nachos and the unprotected sex a couple months before the wedding and you should be fine. Or get the nachos and see Tip #2.
So, I bought the dress. The dress in my size, but not my bridesmaid’s dress size. Mostly to say, “fuck you” to the man but also because it was the only one available for $80. It arrived, and it’s gorgeous, and it fits in that dreamy “if I stand up straight and don’t eat dinner but I don’t give a flying fuck because I saved two hundred dollars” kind of way.
I was pretty proud of myself. I held it up and swirled a bit to celebrate my thrifty ways. And then it hit me. Quite literally, the stupid tag hit me in the face.
“What the hell, tag!?” I yelled.
“Curvalicious.” It responded.
“The fuck?”I asked.
That is to say, the tag said, in big, shiny, pink letters “Curvalicious”. To give you a mental image, it looked exactly like if Fergie Ferg had accidentally spelled another word wrong on my bridesmaid dress tag. Font, glitter, color, and all.
Now this is where it is important to say that it’s not that our bride and groom have a wedding party with enormous tits, and asses that won’t quit, across the board, and chose a dress company suited specifically for that type of rockin bods.
Ok wait. I mean, that’s just misleading.
We, do have enormous tits, and asses that won’t quit, across the board, but the company is just a regular dress company, that happened to accommodate women larger than Jennifer Aniston. This company chose to add a tag to the dresses that they determined are large.
“Hey,” the tag says in swirly, sparkly, font, with the Black Eyed Peas singing backup “You’re bigger than a size 12, and we would like to call that curvalicious, just to make sure you are absolutely positive that you aren’t a size 12. So… are we clear? You’re not a 12. At all. Not even a little bit. Let’s double check….Nope still not a 12. Great. Curvalicious. And if you was suspicious, all that shit is fictitious, I blow kisses…Curvalicious.”
Bridesmaid Tip #4: Don’t trust companies that stole their marketing campaign from a Fergie song.
I’m sure there were a lot of reasons for this tag. Specifically, I’m sure there was some 20-something in leggings and her boyfriend’s sports bra, sipping a latte, that had the brilliant idea of highlighting the brand’s inclusive sizes with a made-up word. Unfortunately, in all settings, worldwide, (the workplace, K12 classrooms, dress stores) “being inclusive” should specifically not “highlight” anything on behalf of someone else. Not sexual preferences, not reading levels, and certainly not the circumference of my thighs.
Adding a tag to the dress not only wastes paper, but puts your clients in the unwanted spotlight and causes them to feel excluded. And, if we revisit 8th grade English, excluded is the general opposite of included.
In the end, this is just one example of why I hate bridemaid’s dresses, but this one example took up all my time, and all my wine, so we’ll pause here and revisit this in the reprise.
In conclusion, I’ll be damned if I don’t look incredibly badass next weekend in my stupid, gorgeous, “curvalicious”, can’t breathe unless I stand up straight and don’t eat dinner but I don’t give a flying fuck because I saved two hundred dollars, dress.
The whole point of wrapping yourself in taffeta for wedding is to say, “Hey. You two are getting married and I’ll be right here by your side the whole way through. Don’t worry. You got me.” anyway.
Bridesmaid Tip #5: Rock the dress, support the marriage with your whole entire heart, and bring moonshine.