Wedding Wednesday: When Girdles Attack.

Part of the reason I decided to do a weekly wedding post is so that I would stop feeling guilty for writing about things like what kind of earrings will look best with my dress and whether or not to have a vegetarian option at dinner. For some reason I get embarrassed talking about the wedding—-as someone who was previously not interested in even having a wedding, it is a bit disconcerting to find myself suddenly obsessed with registry items and flower arrangements. But I am. God help me, I am.
Maybe it is because immersing myself in the wedding is safe—after all, the worst case scenarios are all pretty tame. I still end up married if the flowers aren’t delivered or the cake explodes, whereas other areas in my life (school, work, infertility) have much higher stakes. There is something delightful about putting my energy towards something purely happy and fun: A big party! With everyone celebrating me and the Actually! I suppose it is no wonder I would rather think about place cards than, say, the genetic testing I am having in a week. Of course it is possible that I am just the sort of shallow person who is content to spend two hours contemplating what size pearls might be best suited to her, but either way, a weekly feature gives me license to post long, tortured musings about things that I can hear my grandmother calling frivolous all the way from her grave. I consider you all warned: Wednesdays are all wedding talk-—and just to get things rolling, lets discuss strapless bras.

My dress came in last week, and my best friend/maid of honor accompanied me to the store to see it. First of all, let me just say that trying on wedding dresses is very different from putting on your very own heavy fancy wedding dress that belongs to you. Once I had it on, I stared at myself in the mirror, feeling slightly queasy. Dessa stared at my reflection. Then we stared at each other. I am the first of my friends to be married.

“This is your wedding dress,” Dessa said, “Your real, actual wedding dress that you will wear on your wedding day.” We stared at each other again for a moment, our minds officially blown.
She went on, about it being the DRESS I WOULD WEAR ON THE DAY I WAS MARRIED, until I suggested she maybe stop it, because she was freaking me out.

It feels a lot less like playing dress-up once you’ve paid for the dress and had it delivered to the shop and seen the thick, protective garment bag with your name and wedding date on the side. Suddenly you wonder: what if this isn’t the right dress? And won’t I look silly in a beaded bridal gown, like a kid in her mother’s clothes? And then you try it on, and realize that now that it has arrived, fittings will start, and weren’t you meaning to lose twenty pounds by then?

But slowly these feelings passed, and Dessa and I spent a highly enjoyable, if surreal, hour trying various veil-necklace-earring combinations and wearing down the battery on my digital camera. It was determined that my first fitting will be February 26th.

“Make sure that you bring your shoes and foundation garments,” said the clerk.
I tittered nervously.
“I guess that means I should decide on shoes and foundation garments,” I said, causing her to give me a horrified look. I wish people would stop doing that.

The problem is that my dress is both strapless and has a very low back. I tried on a sort of strapless corset-y thing that had a low back at the shop, but it wasn’t low enough. So I will have to go corset-y bra shopping, and I don’t know whether this is the sort of shopping that can be done at a regular store, like Nordstrom, or whether there is some special scary-backless-strapless-undergarment emporium. Do you know? I had originally planned to wear a boa constrictor-y slimming thing as well, but I will already be wearing a heavy dress, and will be nervous and probably ill-feeling and I can’t help but think I would end up wriggling out of it during the ceremony in a fit of pique. Or, alternatively, it will be like the time in high school I tried on a rubber dress and couldn’t get out of it. Nothing says “wedding night romance” like calling tearfully to your new husband from the bathroom that you will need him to cut you out of your girdle. So all I will be wearing is the corset-y bra (well, and underwear) assuming I can find one before the 26th. Somehow. Somewhere.

The other thing I will need to buy is a pair of shoes, but I have no idea what color of shoe I might want. You have seen the dress, so feel free to chime in with your opinions. I don’t know whether I want to wear an ivory shoe to match, or whether to wear, for instance, a blue shoe. Well, two blue shoes, actually. But could I even find shoes in a blue like our wedding colors? Should I do something completely unrelated, like a nice oyster satin? What about our other wedding color, the dark brown? How high of a heel? I saw a lovely pair the other day, but they were nearly a flat. Maybe I should just go barefoot.

I can’t believe how long this post has gotten, and I haven’t even written about my newly hired judge or the lovely, lovely bridesmaid dress(es). Or the mysterious affair of the overpaid musician. Or the fact that this weekend we are going to a Crate&Barrel registry event where there will be Free! Mimosas and pastries, an event I have been dreaming about for the last few nights, waking up with my stomach growling and reaching for a cruller.