Hello groovers. Happy Valentines! A big slobby kiss to you all.
So I got the wedding frock! I will stop short of describing the actual thing because I have a sneaking suspicious that the Scottish Companion knows about the site.
(Incidentally, I will have to tell him anyway, because en route to the honeymoon I'll be staying with Jillian, a kickarse chick I met through here! I am dead excited about that, but at this stage I told him we met "through my blog" but neglected to specify which one. Time to come clean, methinks.)
ANYWAY. You know what it's like when you shop when you've lost a bit of weight. Your brain struggles to catch up with how your body has changed. When I arrived in London on Friday night, my sister showed me a picture of this dress she'd found and thought could be a goer. I immediately said sulkily, "Well, it's too slinky, it's sleeveless and there's no way I can get into anything from that shop."
Sis rolled her eyes. "How about we LOOK and SEE."
"Fine, fine."
So we rocked up to the wee shop and I peeked in through the window, and declared we couldn't go in because the shop was empty THEREFORE the saleslady would annoy us and I would be humiliated IN MY UNDIES when she flung open the curtains to see the dress wedged somewhere around my gut.
"You told me the dress is also at the big department stores, why can't we go there so I can hide amongst the masses?"
"Nooo!" She insisted we were better off in the smaller, quieter shop; and we were just LOOKING anyway, there was no pressure. She marched inside and started riffling through the racks. She pulled something out and I said, "Oh, it's a skirt?" It looked to small to be a dress. But no, it was apparently a dress.
I started getting that Fat Girl Freakout feeling. Do you ever get that feeling? Where your heart starts pounding, your throat burns and tears spring to your eyes, because your Fat Girl Sense detects pending embarrassment and bludgeoning of self esteem. There was no freaking way I was even going to attempt to get into that! Especially not with that blonde skinny saleslady bouncing around the shop like a frisky puppy.
"Can we just go?" I begged. "Would it be so wrong to get married in jeans like Brittney Spears?"
But my sister was insistent. I was getting panicky. I flatly refused to try it on, instead I managed to persuade HER to try it on instead of me. "To test the sizes," I explained. The biggest size was a 16 and it looked nothing like any other 16 I'd ever seen. So my sis got into the cubicle and got into the frock. It was way too big for her.
"I think you should TRY," she said firmly, "There is no harm in TRYING!"
I made her patrol outside the cubicle and not let anyone in. I stepped into the dress. I was gobsmacked as it slid up over my hips... THEN my guts... THEN my boobs!
"Shit, I think this might work," I whispered.
"It's not working? Oh well, at least we tried."
"Noooo I said it MIGHT work!"
"WOOHOO! I knew it!" She threw back the curtain and jumped up and down grinning and zipped me up. It look a great effort, but not because I was too fat for it, just because it was a close-fitting dress. It fit just fine. It had little straps, but they were detachable and it looked better without them. It was evident I was going to need some seriously manipulative undergarments to make a better shape, but it actually looked pretty nice. It was sleeveless, but my arms didn't look too much like Boeing 747 wings. Especially after we added the sheer and totally subtle stole thingy. It flattered the arms without looking like serious camouflage.
"Quick, quick," I squealed as my sister danced around gleefully, "Help me get out of this now so we can go buy it before the dress changes its mind and won't let me fit into it anymore!"
My sister is such a gem, she really did find a great dress. I absolutely love it, and did not see anything else all day long in all of London that appealed half as much. It's a style that I've always loved, sort of warm and vintagey, but it's rather fitted and obviously sleeveless and a size 16 so there is no way in hell I would have ever even picked it up if it wasn't for her persuading. I dunno if I was happier about finding a gorgeous wedding dress or the fact that I got it from a Normal People's Shop. Ha ha!
That said, crikey people! If I eat ONE mouthful of anything remotely unhealthy between now and March 3, if I can one ounce, I could be seriously in trouble. Mwahaha! It fits perfectly well right now but one false move and POW! So if that's not incentive to keep up with the gymming then I don't know what is. Huzzah!