Tuesday, November 25, 2008

To The Beanpole Dames In The Magazines, You Ain't It, Miss Thang.

I got a surprising call while I was at work the other day. Although, as a general matter, I try to avoid answering my cell during work hours since odds are great that it's my Mother or Future-Mother-in-Law and thus, sure only to upset me, I had a moment of temporary insanity and just picked up the phone without thinking.

Much to my delight it was neither of My Two Moms, but my bridal shop, calling to inform me that my Dress (yes, with a Capital "D," entitled thereto for the extra Dollars it costs) had arrived. This was indeed a surprise because they had previously informed me not to expect the Dress until January because I ordered it so late. (Don't judge - some people just don't get "The Feeling That It's The Dress" and instead these people just try on dress after dress (after dress) because everyone keeps telling them they'll "just know" when it's the "right one" (until finally said people realize that they're going to be 32 by the time they get married and perhaps they just aren't the kind of people who ever "just know" when anything is just the "right" one).


I definitely suspected part of that timeline was faux in an effort (that I respect and applaud) to avoid brides calling up every day to ask if their Dress has arrived. However, despite these suspicions, I was pleasantly surprised to get the call. I quickly selected dates for the first two dress fittings and duly jotted down the instructions: each fitting would be about an hour and I needed to bring my shoes and the undergarments I would be wearing the day of the wedding.

One hour time allotted on my calendar = check!

Shoes = check!

Proper undergarments = ch...not so much.

I took a quick look at the calendar and realized I had about two weekends to find the proper "foundations" for my gown. I don't want to reveal too much about the gown's design itself (because Mr F tends to read this Blog), but I can safely say that I felt smug that this would be sufficient time to find some sort of bustier with sufficient underwire to keep the ladies up and adequately unsmooshed (to avoid my tectonic plates creating cleavage longer (and more treacherous) than the San Adreas fault line).

And while there was a small part of me that was starting to stress about whether the Dress would actually fit me, I pushed those nagging feelings deep down to my inner psyche, much like the disaster preparedness kit hidden in the depths of my broom closet.

Instead, I set off on my maiden voyage to the Mall to find a low-backed strapless bra that would hold my mountains in their individual geographic territories and separate time zones.

Unfortunately, after wading through the lingerie departments of three separate stores, I determined that I must be the only large-chested bride in the world, because every strapless bra I tried on seemed to have the sole goal of pushing my lovely lady lumps first together and then up, so as to give them a lovely "orbs floating on water" effect (and a shimmy measure of 9.2 on the Richter Scale). Nice for a Naughty Nurse Halloween costume. Less nice if I want my groom to look at my er, eyes.

So I continued to search for a bra, which somehow seemed to also involve a barrage of insulting insinuations by sales clerks regarding the size of my love handles. Last I checked, if someone asks for a bra, that doesn't directly translate to a request for body armor and unsolicited commentary about the ability of a garment to get rid of my back fat. I understand the holiday bonuses will be slim this year, but is it really necessary to tell me that I'm not...all in the name of a little extra commission cash in the pocket?

The closest I ultimately got to an appropriate undergarment is a $90 sausage casing with underwire. Now I know I should be happy about the full body armor that will "smooth" me (as every single sales clerk touted), but honestly, I think it's going to be difficult enough to go to the bathroom in the wedding dress, I really don't want the extra complication of having to pee through the hole in the bottom of my bodysuit. (Yes, really - Spanx has a goddamn HOLE in the bottom. It doesn't even snap. It's just material you are supposed to move to the side, like the cheap fabric curtain in the hospital, separating the beds.)

So at the end of the day, I drove home armed only with a second spandex skin and a negative body image.

What's funny is that thus far I have been somewhat successful at not being diet-obsessed. For the past ten months, I just focused on being consistent about going to the gym and eating healthy most of the time (dinners of Triscuits and brie aside, and with the caveat that wine is obviously a health food - I swear I read it in Shape Magazine - look it up!). But the point is, I've been mostly healthy and definitely not focused and/or stressed about my waistline.

Until now.

All of a sudden, the message that my dress had arrived seemed to be a wake up call of another kind. It was as if I had received a telegraph that said: YOU CANNOT GAIN ANY WEIGHT. (A cruel telegram indeed.)

Full translation: you are about to be measured for a dress that must fit you the most perfect of any garment you have ever owned because this is the high point of your attractiveness in every one's mind and it's really all downhill from here. If you can't manage to look good on This One Day, then gosh, you're a mess.

Well of course from the moment I realized that I need to actually fit into a garment that now exists in this world (rather than being a hypothetical garment that could be changed in size should need be), I cannot stop thinking about the fact that I should not be EATING EXTRA FOOD. And since I know I should NOT eat extra food, my stomach has grumbled incessantly for the past ninety-six hours. (So yes, perhaps I was an eensy bit sensitive to the sales ladies bringing me in boatloads of completely unsolicited Spanx).

And in fact, after four days of deep thought, I have now come to firmly believe that this is in fact some sort of conspiracy by the dress shop. Full well knowing that Thanksgiving is just around the corner, they are performing some sort of social experiment on me and my stomach (yes, we are two separate entities) to see just how much weight a bride can gain in the weeks between Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years (because let's not forget that the joyous holiday trifecta of Egg Nog, Hot Buttered Rum, and Champagne all have calories too).

Sweet Plymouth Rock, people. I'm in for some serious trouble. Maybe I should buy a back-up wedding dress. I've seen Project Runway. They can do amazing things with potato sacks these days.


zoliepup said...

Whoo boy, you had me laughing. I would tell you the story of my attempt to find undergarments, but it really is too humiliating to recount.

I'll give you a snapshot: picture me, Ms. 36C in a Victoria's secret dressing room trying on a 34D (inadvertently given to me by idiot sales girl), with it half hooked, while the other half of the hooks are stuck in my hair, crouched with head bent to avoid pulling hair out, whimpering and wondering how the hell to get this godforsaken thing off without going bald or getting help!

Freaking lingerie ladies! How many times do we have to explain to you that we want a bra with NO padding, damn it!

Abbie said...

I have had the hardest time finding a low back strapless bra before in my size (32DD). Figleaves.com sometimes has some options.

I have been on Weight Watchers... not because I'm overweight and NOT because I'm engaged. I joined well before because I knew I'd gained 20 pounds in three years and was essentially shoving food in my mouth out of boredom. I've lost 13.6 pounds since July and changed my eating habits. It's made a huge difference... and I still had a cupcake for a coworker's birthday today!

Kristy said...

Oh my gosh, you freaking crack me up. And I can totally relate. I'm convinced strapless bras were designed to be torture devices for chesty girls.

(Zoliepup - seriously, padding is overrated. Not to mention unnecessary.)

Spanx actually only require that you spread your legs. You don't have to move any fabric, which is good, because that could be really awkward.

Krista said...

Wow ... I am not looking forward to bra shopping for undergarments for my dress.

And Spanx has pee holes? WTF! Honestly, who thought that one up? It's one of those things that may have seemed like a good idea "at the time", but really isn't.

Love this post ... seriously funny!

not-yet-a-doctor said...

I LOVE this post!!! I wish you would write every day... it is such a highlight to have someone tell it as it is about all things wedding... I am just at the start of planning, but do have my dress (I hear ya on the 'you'll just know' BS... I bought mine on ebay, and so completely escaped the horrifying experience of bridal shops... picked one, low-balled, and paid... it fit! done and done!). anyways, i have been avoided shopping for undergarments, but this comin relief prepares me... thanks!!!

Amber said...

omg, hilarious. pee holes are truly terrifying. what if you missed? and peed on your dress? how is that supposed to be sexy wedding underwear? what do you MEAN kristy that you only 'have to spread your legs'?

Jenny said...

I can't stop laughing! I was sitting here drinking my coffee and I ended up spitting it out all over my monitor! You are hilarious! Good luck trying to stay the same weight. I too got a phone call that my dress is ready for pick up. I go Friday. I have to store it myself until my 1st fitting in March. I'm down 23lbs...I want to loose about 10-15! Staying the same weight shouldn't be too hard!
(I'm still laughing about the potato sacks..)

Sharpiegirl said...

Ummmm....EEEEWWWWWWW!!!! I'm getting ready to go shopping for the dreaded undergarments too. I've got some jiggly parts that I would like to have gone or at least smoothed out so I guess I'll have to check out those Spanx things but pee holes? I think I would rather fight the snaps!

keyla said...

You've done it again. Thanks for brightening up our days. Good luck with the search!!

Blablover5 said...

I had the craziest fears about trying on my wedding dress as well: What if I don't fit into it anymor? What if it isn't the right color? What if a bear shows up and mauls me on the way out the door?

I think they put something in their salons that drives you mad and full of fear. Maybe that's Scarecrows new job.

Anonymous said...

This post is so timely. My dress was supposed to be in by January but they just called today to tell me it's here! "But, wait" I thought, "I haven't lost any weight yet! Plus I was planning on eating for Thanksgiving!"

It is all a trick.

Sweet T said...

i still find the hole in the bottom of my spanx skeevy. do people really piss through that?!?

fritz said...

okay...first. you are freaking hilarious! second...are our mothers sisters? (very distant of course) and thirdly i am in the same boat, trying to plan a wedding, oh and raise my fiances 12 year old son and complete my masters degree...any and all advice is greatly appreciated because i love him dearly and cannot wait! oh yeah and your comment about 'your special day!' what is that all about, they day is about two people everyone!!

s. said...

I hear ya. Here is my saga, but it has a happy ending!

I have to say American's don't know what the hell they are doing when it comes to bras. I went to multiple "fancy" bra shops in San Francisco, Austin, New York, nada. Yes, they fit but they didn't do crap and cost 90 bucks.

I finally got the chance to go to Bravissima when I visited my sister in London. Seriously - Fantasie 4025 is a miracle and they carry it a Nordstroms.

On to the wedding... After the woman at Macy's told me a 30" band "Does not exist." Um, but I'm wearing it right now... I went to Nordstorms' where they carry Fantasie and had my size - Dear lord a 30G people.

The lovely woman said, yes they do have strapless in a 30G but was I sure I really needed it? With that size they don't do much and are just expensive. And a strapless dress shouldn't necessitate one if it is made correctly, unless its a coverage issue. I thought of it, and no, not really since the dress fits and is pretty well lined.

Moral of the story. A great seamstress to tighten things up around there, no bra, and the evening went just fabulously.