So the search for the perfect dress continues. Yesterday, my good friend Shauna (who I just found out used to date a certain muscular man’s body double who also just happens to have the same amazing Eastern European accent, but a face that is about 1000 times cuter – how did I not know this???)…well, the two of us drove all the way out to Monrovia, California to find a dress.
Why did I do that, you might ask.
There I was at physical therapy having my neck prodded and poked, when my therapist told me that she had found her Barbie doll dream dress. (Just so you know, she’s getting married in a year and a half. Since my wedding is but months away, you can imagine my pleasure in hearing how on-the-ball she is.) “Where did you find it?” I asked, crossing my fingers that maybe just maybe this was a sign from God and that my search was about to end…And that’s how I found myself picking up Shauna and driving out to east-bumble Monrovia.
I knew the minute I walked into the store that I had made a big, big mistake. Poof, beading, ruching, and long taffeta trails spread wall-to-wall as far as the eyes could see. Why, Lord, why? To appease the owner I stripped down to my underpants and tried on a few dresses/nightmare concoctions of lace and organza. As I stepped in and out of poofiness, I realized that I’m on the verge of becoming a nudist. I’m so used to being buck-naked in front of strange shopkeepers, I can barely discern the difference between clothed and unclothed except that when I’m clothed I don’t keep sneaking peaks at my thighs in the mirror.
After we all agreed that my small frame did not look good in a 40-pound gown that we had to cinch all over with jumper cables (that’s how they fit the dresses to you; they clip in the baggy parts with orange clips that look just like what you keep in the car to charge the battery. between the cables and the horrible dresses, I feel like a clunker that nobody wants. maybe I’m part of the cash-for-clunkers scheme)…well, after all that, Shauna and I went back to the city where we hit up Paperbag Princess, a well-known vintage store. Eh. Shauna loved one of the dresses, but the more I thought about it, the more I knew it wasn’t what I wanted.
And so the search continues…today I’m off to the Glamour Closet and a Kimono store in Japantown. Maybe yards of embroidered fabric, white face, and a black wig is what I need. Because this wedding dress thing is nuts.