My little sister, HeatherRose, got married this past Saturday. It was a lovely day, and Rosie and her new husband make a pretty gutsy couple. Everyone commented on their mushy first kiss, the tasty eats, the lacy details, the lights and candles and trees and church and family and friends. It was warm and intimate and welcoming. Such a good, good celebration!
I think my favorite part of the day, however, was that moment when I walked out of the bathroom stall half dressed with an arm strung up over my head and a clumsy hand tugging at the spanx making doughy work of my midriff Thirty minutes before the start of my sister’s wedding, thirty minutes before I was supposed to walk down an isle with hair coiffed and cheeks blushed and smile bright, I discovered that my bridesmaid dress didn’t fit. The waist band that seemed so elegant before the back seam was sewn now barred passage of my hips and shoulders. I stood in my smudged make-up and horror while a fellow brides maid pulled on the dress and I tugged on my slip straps until my shoulders and chest popped the waist band.
After a night of eating cake and watching kisses, I returned to my lowly Pie in the Sky and ripped that dress to pieces.
What’s your greatest wedding/dress fiasco?