My good friend, co-worker and sometimes aider-and-abettor, Jenn, just got married the other day. This being the second time around the wedding block for both of them, they went to elopement route.
In a vineyard. In Napa Valley. At sunset. Gah!
Yes, they are "that" disgustingly perfect couple...and if I didn't love 'em so much and if they each hadn't had to wade through Crap River for years to find each other I'd have to hate them. But they did have to go through some mighty shitty circumstances to finally find each other...so I'll let them have their picturebook wedding (literally, I bet the vineyard uses these two in their advertisements) without being TOO snarky.
Of course, leading up to the actual nuptials got a little nerve wracking...especially for Jenn. Since the two of them were like a house a'fire for each other, they had not allowed a lot of flash-to-bang time between the engagement and the wedding. And that meant that the dress was of imminent concern. Jenn had ordered a couple of dresses off of Amazon (not being your typical twenty-something bride with a 300 headcount church wedding meant she could go a little non-traditional). When the dresses came in, she loved one of them...but it was WAY off on the sizing. (Have I mentioned Jenn is a tall blonde of runway model proportions? Bitch.) She sent it back, ordered what she hoped was the right size and then was frantically looking for "Dress B". The perfect dress had to be remade and then put on a slow boat from China.
The royal couple (as we took to calling them) was leaving for the West Coast in 10 days...my normally calm, cool and collected friend started to get a little wild-eyed look about her. When she wasn't trying to get a bead on her dress through international package tracking, she was looking for a back-up dress. And getting more and more distraught.
Finally, as a JOKE, I told her that she was more than welcome to borrow my wedding dress...as it was hanging in my upstairs closet even as we spoke. And I sent her pictures of me in my wedding dress in all of my 1990 glory.
Travel back in time with me...back to a time when Madonna "Material Girl" hair ruled the world and the people believed that EVERYTHING, including bathrobes and wedding dresses needed shoulder pads:
Now, I ain't gonna lie...I'd probably be willing to perform unmentionable acts to have that figure back (except, apparently, diet and exercise). Even if it is clad in blindingly white satin so slick that I couldn't sit down in that dress without almost sliding out of the chair. But you do not even want to guess at the amount of Aqua Net it took to get my eternally straight hair to acquire that much poof.
I got this dress at the JCPenney wedding outlet store in Georgia. I though it was the loveliest thing I had ever laid eyes on. I bought it for $99.
Finally, I feel we must address the gi-normous poofy sleeves. What is with those? Am I smuggling severed heads in there? Are they there to provide a handy place to tuck my bouquet when I need my hands free? I have no idea.
Sadly enough, I did not actually get married in my wedding dress. Jeff and I had slated an August wedding date...but sometime mid-May the wedding planning, accentuated by my newly-divorced, warring parents got the better of me and I had a complete come-apart. After getting my sniveling under control Jeff just pronounced: "Screw it. Pack a bag, we'll get married in Panama City this weekend." Which we did.
And my sweet Jenn? Her dress arrived about 4 days before departure for their elopement/honeymoon. It's no mandarin-collar-having, severed head-concealing sleeved, shiney white confection of a dress that mine was...but I do admit that it fit her, and the current decade, beautifully.
Congratulations, you crazy kids!