This thing really could go out and get a job on its own, don't you think?
At least there aren't any stays along my front, just at the sides. But the damn thing cost seventy dollars! ($70.00!) I have whole closets full of clothes that didn't cost that much put together!
(aside: You know what's amazing? It's 2006 and bras are still being sold in "flesh" colors that fall only on the "white-girl" end of the spectrum. Undergarment manufacturers, get your damn heads out of your asses and make a better range of bra colors! Gah!)
Anyway, here are pictures from the actual fitting, in which no boobies were mishandled or told to obtain a higher position on my chest. Thank god.
I don't know why I'm scrutinizing my right hand; Look at the happy half-face! I love dressing up and I didn't even know it!
I am not fond of bows on my butt, even when they are band-aid sized. Especially when they are band-aid sized. Here you see Harriet reluctantly cutting it off (she likes bows. She is also the woman who looked down my dress and announced my need for cleavage enhancement. Despite these facts, I kind of like her).
Setting the bustle and hem. Deanna has her hand on my butt (in a holding-the-bustle way), Harriet is pinning the hem, and my Mom looks on (wondering how her tomboy daughter managed to find herself in a wedding dress).
Me and the dress, having a moment together.
If you look closely, you can see my Mom's diamond jewelry on my ears and round my neck. My something borrowed. (Later, as Laura was helping me out of this crazy getup, we dropped one of the earrings in the dressing room and I think I died for the two minutes it took for us to find it. We did find it, so I did not remain dead.) I still haven't found something old or something blue.
And there it is. My wedding dress. Holy crap.