Part One - The Fitting
When I ordered my wedding dress (in a blizzard, which was a barrel of laughs, let me tell you), the nice ladies at the shop ordered a size 10 skirt and size 14 top. This flies in the face of all fact-based reality, as I am generally a size 8 top and probably a size 12 skirt. But it's wedding clothes, so nothing is based in reality at all. Ever.
So, March 25th was my first attempt at fitting this weird size combination to my body. Being the fashion-unaware person that I am, I have no strapless bras (okay, I do have one but it's red and just screams "slut" and on the whole isn't that appropriate for under a wedding dress. Or is it?) --anyway, I had to borrow one from my sister. The strapless bra I wore is nothing fancy--no pushup, no long-line. It was essentially a bandage with shaping.
Maribeth helped me into the dress, helped me out into the showroom with all the mirrors and people, and I saw myself in the dress, full-on.
It was a little weird. Despite the hugeness of the top, I saw a bride and --holy hell!-- I was the bride. I got a little shaky and looked at my Mom and said "I'm wearing my wedding dress," which was blatantly obvious, even to the untrained eye, but which was suddenly very real and nearly made me fall over from shock.
In the midst of this moment the fitters are pulling at the sides of the top, and pinning where they're going to take it in and whatnot. Then the lead fitter gets to the front of me and kind of pauses and says "Hmmm."
Hmmm?
"Are you wearing a bra?" she asks.
"Yes," I say.
"Is it a push-up bra?" she asks.
"No," I say, cowering.
pause.
"You'll probably want to wear a push-up bra" she says. "Let's see what you've got up top."
And I swear to you I am not kidding, she walked up to me and--despite the fact that there were other shoppers in the store--seized the top of my dress with two hands and pulled it out and looked down the front of my dress to see my non-push-up-bra-encased boobies, and when she looked up she confirmed: "Yep, you'll need to get a push-up bra."
Thank you. Because I didn't have enough judgment in my life.
(And I go back for my next fitting this Saturday, armed with a strapless long-line push-up bra the likes of which I have never seen before and hope never to see again. Ever.)
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5 comments:
Poor boobies.
Honestly, some women in retail really need to learn some manners when it comes to boobies. I guess that some of them deal with boobs on such a frequent basis that they've lost a bit of their sensitivity and "bedside manner" when it comes to dealing with the rest of us.
I remember the first time I actually got fitted for a bra--and it wasn't for my very first one! There was a very nice lingerie store in the town where I went to college where I heard they could fit you well & find you the most comfy bra for your size & shape. That was the end result for me, but my boobs got more "manhandled" in that store than they ever did in a movie theater by the boy-du-jour!
oh sweet christ - how f-ing humiliating!
i think this may be why i eloped.
oh, and if i were there, i'd be documenting the whole thing with the Fabulous New Camera (tm).
good luck with the next fitting.
*shudder* This is why I had my mother alter my wedding dress!
I was actually told not to wear a bra. Yep. How's that for judgment. "Oh, you won't even need to wear a bra with this dress, we can just do some adjustments here..." No thanks. It is a wedding. I wore a bra. At least she stopped there, though perhaps the groom... nah. I won't go there.
Those bras horrify me. I had to wear mine twice (because I'm a total whore and got married twice ... to two different men ... in the same dress). It was EVIL and I think that I actually threw it out, even though it cost close to a day's pay.
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