Monthly Archives: September 2011

Drowning in Tulle


Wedding dress shopping. I went to two different kinds of stores throughout the process, and the difference in experience was HUGE!

First store was the run-of-the-mill here-is-your-dress store.

No one really has any idea about the sheer amount of torture devices under one of those dresses. For example, you walk into the store and are immediately stripped down to normal people underwear, and the process begins.

A brassiere  entirely designed for such a situation is brought out. It looks normal enough, except that it has lost its straps and has grown a body. Approximately 45 clips later, you have no hope of ever escaping. You are supported if you like it or not! Then comes the slip, also known as the “tier of tulle.”  At this point it is easy to become confused and think that you are already in a dress.

But we’re not there yet.

The attendant helps you into your “fixings” and then brings out dress after dress. You then are awkwardly birthed through a mountain of tulle atop your already tulle covered waist. You have to be helped in and out of these dresses because mobility has already become an issue.

It was ridiculous, but it was princess treatment. You didn’t lift a finger, and everyone was there to tell you just how beautiful you were and how beautiful everyone else would think you were.

At your rich, NYC Designer store… not the case.

I am definitely not the kind of person to shop around when designers are involved, for I am a poor full-time student. I think 10 dollars is extravagant, but I thought I would make an exception for matrimony. I figured if one of these expensive dresses did the trip and made me feel glorious then I would splurge. After panicking about price ranges, whether or not they would look down on my budget, or whether or not there would be normal-woman sizes in the store… my friends and I arrived.

There was no bra-contraption, no slip, and NO help. I had expected sips of champagne after how the last store treated me, but the girl literally walked me into the dressing room and said “good luck.” This is where the panic set in.

If I stepped every so slightly wrong… it would cost me at least 2500 dollars.

Each dress then became this ginger tight-rope experience of drowning in pounds and pounds of tulle and satin praying to all the gods of the universe that I wouldn’t hurt any of these gowns.

In the end, I was only handed a few dresses that weren’t even near what I asked for. It took forever to figure out how to successfully get into the dresses, and in the end it wasn’t really worth it. I was pretty upset.

My friends sprung into action and googled the nearest run-of-the-mill store that we had been in before. They got me in and offered the same royal treatment, and I found THE DRESS!

I’ll stick to my Run-of-the-mill store any day.

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Bandaids


I’ve never been much of a fighter.

There was this one time in middle school that I was smacked, but I hardly count that as a real fight since it ended with me giggling uncontrollably at the ridiculousness of the situation. But yesterday… a fight went down.

I was walking along minding my own business on the way to print out the equivalent of an entire textbook, and

The sidewalk tripped me, picking a fight.

Such an affront would usually be when my ninja-like skills would kick in, and I would steady myself in a big “YEAH RIGHT” to the sidewalk,

but I was so shocked at the normally friendly object taking a turn for the worst that I went down.

I went down hard.

And that wasn’t enough… the sidewalk then scraped both my hands, both my knees, and slammed my head into its chest scraping up my face. I was a mess, and to make matters worse there was a group of people walking near me that didn’t stop! They looked back, scoffed, and kept walking.

So here I am mortally wounded with perhaps a small concussion, and I am but a laughable excuse to even stop.

It all became much better, though, when my friend gave me designer, sparkly bandaids. Even at 21, those make life so much better.

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