Adventures in Dress Shopping

So, as I told y’all on Friday, I went shopping for my bridesmaid dress this weekend. I’d heard some horror stories about shopping for formal wear, especially at David’s Bridal, so when I walked in the store, I was more than a little apprehensive. Would the salespeople be nasty towards me? Would they ignore me and leave me to my own devices? Would they even have my size?

Well, I can say I lucked out. The David’s I went to had extraordinary service. Every saleswoman that saw me was very pleasant and did her absolute best to find the pieces I asked for. When they didn’t have the size I requested, the young woman (we’ll call her J.) brought me the next size up and the next size down. This way, I’d have an idea on the general look, and if neither size she brought fit, I’d know I was right in the middle. The experience was lovely!

So, I’m sure y’all are wondering: where’s the adventure? Well, the adventure came in with the actual trying of things on. You see, our well-organized bride has known for some time what dresses we wanted. (We’re doing seperates.) So when I get to the store, I just show J. my notebook with the style numbers, and she pulls different things, and I go in the dressing room. My mom was there for the zipping in. Well, I get the original ensemble on and…why the hell is this top digging into my left biscuit roll (the affectionate name for “love handle” that BuddingStarlet came up with), why the hell does my back hurt, and why in the hell do I feel a breeze on my belly?! Aha. My belly is out. Well, then. That’ll probably do it. My mom looks, and says she likes the overall look, but since I’m uncomfortable, she’ll have J. pull another size.

When J. brings the next size up, it now looks like I’m a six year old playing dress up in her mommy’s closet. Where my boobs should go is…well, kinda empty and sad. No big deal, I’ll just alter that part. But the rest of the strapless top is still digging in areas it ought not dig, and I still feel a breeze on my belly. Now I’m starting to get pissed, because THIS is the outfit I wanted and the damned thing doesn’t fit properly.

My mom, ever the trooper, does her best to make it work on me. Slowly, that diet-mind tries to rear her ugly head. I hear the whisper: “You know, it wouldn’t take much to lose that biscuit roll right there.” And this time, I was ready to shut my diet-mind up. So, I said: “Mom, how about we ask J. to pull another top. This one isn’t going to work, and I’m not about to force it to.” She does, and J. comes back with several other styles for me to choose from. After a quick call to the bride to make sure the change is cool with her, and making sure she’s ok with the top (which makes me look very boobalicious; but we’ll be able to rein ’em in), I had my dress (and they had the right size avaliable!) and the sash all ordered.

So I’m sure y’all want pictures, right? Well, you’ll just have to settle for the avatar. I would have let y’all see me in the dress, but they didn’t have the colors I needed in stock, so I looked like I’d been attacked by the Technicolor Monster. First up: the original gown I planned on wearing:

Cute, but not comfy.

And here is the new gown. All I changed was the top:

Cute, comfortable, and flattering!

I wish y’all could see the back of this top. It’s a halter, and there are straps that come down the back and connect to the rest of the top. There’s ruching in the front, and it’s cut in a sweetheart neckline. Yes, it’s a poor description. I’m sorry. I wish they would give me another view of the top online so I could show y’all. But anyhow, that was my grand adventure this weekend. Now, I have to find shoes. Any of you have a clue what color shoe I should wear with this gown (the bride’s requirement: it must match)? Suggestions appreciated!