So, I had my first wedding dress fitting last weekend and well, I wouldn’t say it went great. I had big plans that it would. The game plan was to eat only salads and drink only green juices five days leading up to the fitting. You know, like any normal bride would do. But I’ve learned that I’m not “any normal bride”- instead I did everything one shouldn’t do five days before their first wedding dress fitting. I spent the week eating carbs, drinking wine and eating sweets. The low was actually eating pizza for lunch before my 3:00 pm appointment. I mean, what the eff is wrong with me, right? Am I insane??? I don’t even eat pizza. Actually, I rarely even eat carbs!
I’ve always been the type of person that if you tell me to NOT do something…I’m like…watch me. Clearly, I haven’t changed much.
When I walked into Monique Lhuillier the day of I was still optimistic that my week on the dark side wasn’t going to effect me. I glanced around at the other brides getting fit- it was a sea of six-foot, stick thin ladies. I didn’t remember there being so many of them the last time I was here. It was like a model convention. Clearly, the universe was screwing with me. When my seamstress, Olga called my name I took a big gulp of water and reminded myself that I would probably be just fine. I mean, I work out four days a week and all. But the minute she zipped up my dress, I knew…I knew I was fucked. Sure it zipped, but walking was labored and sitting down was near to impossible. Naughty bride. Naughty bride. Naughty bride.
Olga stood there quietly adjusting my dress.
I said, “So, how many more fittings do we have before the big day?”
She said, “At least three but sometimes up to four.”
“Ok, good” I said causally “because I want to lose a few pounds in the meantime…it feels a bit snug.”
She pursed her lips, looked at me with concern and said, “I hate telling brides this, but, um….yes, you should lose at least five pounds before your next fitting…in three weeks.”
This is exactly what you DON’T want to hear your seamstress say six weeks before your wedding.
When I got in my car I immediately called Brian and dramatically yelled, “Why did you let me eat all that pizza this week!! My dress barely fit!”
Clearly, my situation was his fault.
“Can’t they just let the dress out a bit?” He asked lovingly
“What an insane question! NO!”
I was suddenly reminded of the scene in Bride Wars in which Kate Hudson’s character screams…
“You don’t alter Vera to fit you, you alter yourself to fit Vera!!!!!!!”
My life had become a scene from Bride Wars. Sigh.
“I can’t even sit in it!” I yelled
“Well, people always say that you never sit down at your own wedding anyway.” He said
Hysterical, Brian. Hyssssssterical.
So, now what? What’s the game plan? Well, I won’t be eating pizza anymore, that’s for sure. I will also not be enjoying carbs in general, sweets or dairy. Jealous? Oh, and I will also be saying goodbye to my favorite thing…buttery chardonnay. Big sigh. It all seems like a cruel joke considering the stress weddings come with.. One needs buttery chardonnay and pizza.
45 days! YAY!
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