Wedding Dress Circa 1977

   So we have a date, a place, and a photographer. These seem like the most important parts of a wedding to me. However, people seemed appalled that I hadn't gotten neck-deep in dress-hunting yet. In fact, it was a lot of people's FIRST QUESTION. "What kind of dress do you want?" not "Do you have a date yet?", not "Where do you want to have it?" Nope, the most important thing about a wedding is how big and princessy you can get your dress.

     Now, as you may know, I am not the pinnacle of girliness, and in general dread fancy-dress shopping. It's not so much that I hate dressing up, it's that so little fits. Big Boobs + No @$$ = very hard combination to fit in a dress. Bras are not optional. Strapless bras are not bras in my book, they are thinly-disguised torture devices. (This is how you know I love Bridesmaid Danielle - I wore a strapless bridesmaid dress in her wedding.)

   But I digress, what I mean to get across to you is the fact that every time someone asks me if I have a dress yet, I kind of inwardly wince and envision a hailstorm of princess skirts and strapless dresses. I have been preparing to embark on dress shopping much like preparing for battle - with much grim determination, research, and printouts from websites. I was hurtling towards my first dress appointment with a feeling not unlike a dread of being led to the gallows....I was definitely taking this a little too seriously, for sure.

   Luckily, mom decided, nay insisted, that before we got started dress-hunting, I was going to try on HER wedding dress. I say "luckily" not because I have decided to wear the dress, but because it afforded so much hilarity that it completely broke my feeling of dread. Even she giggled.

    My mom failed to remember that she was a teeny 110lbs. by the time of her wedding! (Also, she had already had surgery to get rid of the chest she then passed on to me). Seriously, people, I didn't think I was getting one thigh into that thing. It wasn't, as you can see from the picture, THAT bad. In fact, there are parts of the dress that I like. Ok, not the illusion top. Ok, not the poet-like frilly sleeves. Or the high neck. Um, well, I like the bottom, OK?

     Anyway, the part of the dress you cannot see, for reasons that it would be completely violating the decency rules of this blog, is the fact that the entire back of the dress is wide open. I don't think we got an inch zippered up before we collapsed into hysterical laughter. My mom barely got the veil on me before I broke down in giggles. I think you can tell from the picture. Not the solemn mother-daughter moment she was expecting, I'm sure, but I appreciated it for lightening my outlook on the dress hunt, certainly.