I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: wedding/bridesmaid dress shopping ain’t fun for a fatty. Given that I’m a bridesmaid in about 7492 weddings over the next year, I had to go dress shopping yet again last night.
I was actually feeling pretty confident, having lost about 15 pounds since the beginning of January. I couldn’t fit any of the sample dresses, of course, but hey, not everyone is a size 2, I reasoned. After perusing all of the dresses, I selected one that I think will cover the pooch well enough (I love you, empire waists) and won’t make me look like a total whale – it’s actually a very pretty dress in a beautiful deep navy.
Then I went to pay.
Because I had to order a plus-size dress (which, the salesgirl said, amounts to about size 14 in street clothes), I had an added charge tacked onto my dress. It was almost a third the cost of the dress!
I understand the reasoning behind it. Extra fabric = extra dollas. But that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing to be told that you have to pay a significantly higher price because you couldn’t stop porking out on Cheetos. Mortifying, is what it was.
I cried the whole way home.
It’s not the bridal salon’s fault. They have no control over what a dress designer charges. I could tell that they felt awful for me having to pay almost $50 more than the other bridesmaids. Fifty dollars isn’t a lot in the grand scheme of things, but my chequebook has already taken a hit from all of the weddings I’ve been involved with (plus my own wedding expenditures).
My cheeks red as hell, I forked over the $50 and did what any fat girl would do to displace the embarrassment – I cracked a joke about it (while fighting back tears and praying my payment would go through).
Le sigh. I’m definitely not looking forward to wedding dress shopping now. Someone pass me a drink. Or ten.