Next week I fly out to Arizona for my little sister's wedding. She wanted bridesmaids even though she's getting married in the temple, so I'm going to be a bridesmaid. Since I'm not endowed I won't actually be in there for the wedding. Despite that she wants us in matching dresses for the pictures and the reception. The dress could be worse. However, it's doodoo brown because that's the trend this season.
I don't like brown. I don't wear brown. Ever. Scratch that, I bought my first brown pants I have owned in my whole life in the fall. That's when I had to buy my first batch of fat clothes. I bought them out of desperation more than anything else. Other than my fat pants, and some tweed heels I bought because I have a tweed fetish, I own nothing brown. Oh, except for the Coach clutch mom bought me a few years ago. (She failed to notice that my wardrobe excluded brown bless her heart--now I have a bag to wear with the doodoo brown dress!)
The dress is a Banana Republic which sis was sweet enough to purchase for me and mail to me. Luckily, I can still close the zipper. But I think I need some kind of girdle underwear... the dress is not flattering. It's made for shorter women with smaller chests. I hang out the v-neck front. Anyone with more than a B cup knows you can't wear V-cut necks. We're talking a V that goes all the way down between the girls. Well, I guess I'll just look like the slutty older spinster sister, in doo doo brown. That's OK.
Because I got me some s-e-x-y shoes to distract attention away from the dress. You can see the shoes above, the heels are 3.5 inches, and yes those are rhinestones. Yow. (Thanks mom!) They're not really my style, and the brown ones are matte instead of satiny. I think the shoes will save me from the dress. And at least now I know I'll look like a high-class hoochie, which makes it ok somehow. Jill wants us all to get our hair done together and then have mani-pedis. She said she wants us to pretend we are a normal happy family. I don't know why she wants to project that fantasy on us but, it's her day. It should be nice. Except.
I'm nervous about seeing all the family. Most of them I haven't seen in 10 years. Every single person out there knows what kind of horror awaits them at a family wedding: the pity (she's the older sister), the inquiry (do you have a boyfriend?), and then the encouragement (oh, you'll find a husband soon, you're so pretty!)--I heard that from my stepmother 5 years ago after I lost my lithium weight. Ugh. I always just want to scream at them: I've been busy because I'm getting a PhD! Aren't you people impressed by that at all??? No. They never are. But lose a little weight and they throw a party in your honor. (Even if they know you lost the weight because you couldn't afford to eat because you maxed out your credit cards in order move to the big city.)
But what are you going to do? Try to smile your way through it and eat lots of cake. (I do hope there is going to be good cake, chocolate that's not too sweet.) I also might try to milk the poor spinster routine, either that or try to play the glamorous big city career girl with no interest in things as parochial as marriage. ;)