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The Toybox

people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation


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bridesmaid dresses
children of dune - leto 1
seperis
After a variety of threats from Nezsa and her mother, I agreed to have my hair done by the chick who does hers. Which was fine. I felt vaguely like I was at work, since no one spoke English, but I also see this is a really *good* reason to be self-absorbed, conceited, and unsociable--I really don't care what people are saying.

Okay, that's a lie, I still do listen. But I care in a vague, did-you-just-call-me-a-puta-way. Which I'm sure she didn't.

Or you know, could be paranoid here. This would not surprise me.

Anyway, my hair is redder, and they started highlight work in a very interesting shade of blonde. I'm getting the rest done sometime before sister's wedding next month.

Also, I tried on my bridesmaid's dress.

This really deserves its own entry, but what the hell, I'm here and the dress is here and that thing was designed by a sadist who loved pastels.



Here's how it happened.

They had a strange variety of sizes. I picked up an eight and a twelve, since I figured if neither fit, I'd know by process of elimination the ten would be it. Herein lies the problem.

The thing has no *zipper*.

Now, perhaps someone, oh, the designer, thought we were planning to be sewed into these things. A wrestling match ensued between me and the dress that probably sent whoever watches those videotapes into hysterics. It's actully fairly pretty, dark purple sheathe of iron--er, satin--with gauzy lavender layers over. Three to be exact.

Did I mention there is no zipper? This is an important plot point. Keep up.

Anyway, it took some digging to figure out how to pull it over my head. Once there, I was kind of trapped, arms in the air, staring vaguely into yards of purple with a random outer layer covering my head completely, and I'd be damned if I was calling for help looking like that, despite the fact I was losing usable oxygen. Somehow, and this is one of those mysteries of physics, the fact I have not much in the way of breasts did not actually stop the dress from getting caught *right there*. I also could not pull it back off unassisted, since my arms, as stated, were trapped high over my head. I swear I read a bdsm fic with this plot once.

But moving on.

With some shimmying and crying and around the time I realized that if I passed out from oxygen deprivation someone would see me like this, I got the thing off my face and my arms free enough to pull it down. Once on, the sucker fit *perfectly*. I did the usual calesthentics to prove it, but unfortunately, this was the one. I thought longingly of people who get their bridesmaids hideous dresses with zippers, then went to show the family.

Frankly, I do not have the shoulders to do spagetti straps. There's a vague sense of former wrestler going on there, but my mother almost burst into tears and my sister was assured that even though the dresses *looked* okay, those in it would not look better than she did. Grrr.

But wait, there's more. I had to get out of it.

This time when getting stuck, I had to call to sister, who cheerfully unwrapped me and enjoyed herself immensely watching me buy mine and Youngest Sister's dress, size four, the smallest they had. Youngest Sister is built kind of like a cross between a bean and a refugee camp survivor, so it's going to be taken up a *lot*.

But yes. That's what I'm wearing to this wedding. I am going to *cut* it off when this is over and enjoy it a *lot*.

Now I want to get married. I mean, yes, dress, cakes, wonderful kitchen appliance gifts, but the big reason is that I found this little beaded floor-length number that has no zipper, boned bodice, and will require advanced yoga techniques to get into. Really advanced.

She's wearing that one.



Places to Go

Cavelorn talks the psychology of horror</a>. I'd like to thank whoever originally led me to that for the wonderful Ring memories this prompted, because I cannot imagine anything more fun than not sleeping tonight, waiting to be killed by a fingernailless little girl climbing out of my television all wet from the well.

I did like, however, the emphasis she put on the way they *look* at you. And on indirectness in horror. It's pretty easy to gross me out, but it's a special place that scares me badly without blood, guts, or anything really extraordinary in sight. I'm trying to think of examples that she doesn't use and can't think of a one.

But you know, happy Ring memories. Whoo hoo. Let me just unplug the tv now. And throw it out the window.


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*sighs and stares*

This rivals the moment that I found out my beta was a 'he' after five months of work on a Voyager novel.

Thanks for the correction!

he's an interesting guy. writes RPG game manuals. GEEEEEEEK. :)

Now I want to get married. I mean, yes, dress, cakes, wonderful kitchen appliance gifts, but the big reason is that I found this little beaded floor-length number that has no zipper, boned bodice, and will require advanced yoga techniques to get into. Really advanced.
ROFL! Does it come with an instruction manual complete with diagrams? And suggestions for holding your breath while simultaneously sucking in your chest? Possibly streching exercises to do in preparation for the big day?

I also could not pull it back off unassisted, since my arms, as stated, were trapped high over my head. I swear I read a bdsm fic with this plot once.
*giggles* Oooh. Bridesmaid's dresses of kinkiness.
-Silverkyst

ROFL! Does it come with an instruction manual complete with diagrams? And suggestions for holding your breath while simultaneously sucking in your chest? Possibly streching exercises to do in preparation for the big day?

You think I'm going to make it *easier* for her?

Oh no. This one she will cry as it catches on her underwear from the beading, require her to bend in humanly impossible ways, and will force her into perfect posture and heels and keep catching on things as she walks.

I'm all about the revenge coming back hundredfold, yo.

*giggles* Oooh. Bridesmaid's dresses of kinkiness.

Whoever wrote that story understood my horror. Bridesmaidal asphixiation by gauze is *not* the way to go.

Don't feel bad.

I have in my mother's basement 5 bridesmaids dresses. All in lovely shades of pink/purple ranging from a very pale pink to a darker fuchsia pink that has an iridescent sheen that makes it look purple-y depending on how you look at it. Two of these lovely frocks I signed contracts for that included free cut down services so I could wear them again. (Not)

Re: I feel your pain

*laughs* This will be my second. I have little to worry about with Youngest Sister--she's in a long-term punk-goth streetish phase that with any kind of luck, should she suddenly want to embrace social/familial norms, means like, a run to the courthouse or something.

Though she's unreasonably attracted to these lime monstrocities we saw while perusing the aisles. I keep looking at her boyfriend suspiciously and worry. *worries*

Lime. No.

Re: I feel your pain

*laughs* This will be my second.

5 all silk blah-blah cost a lot of money material. After the last one I drew the line. If you're not my best friend or a blood relative.

Do NOT ask.

I am tired of bows on my butt, shoes that hurt, never-ending receiving lines and god-awful rehearsal dinners. And don't even get me started on bridal showers & wedding gifts.

Ring, Ring, Ring - one movie I'm definitely NOT getting on DVD.

Yeah, being aware that I own this DVD does nothing for me right now.

Yes, I am shaky over the existence of my television.

*shivers*

I have never seen that movie. Between you and my aunt, I never want to see it.

I swear I read a bdsm fic with this plot once.

Bwahahahaa!

I have tried on dresses like that, the ones where you get them stuck around your ribcage and then realise there is no way in hell this sucker is going to fit over the rest of you (regardless of how big it looked when you held it in front of you to check) and then realise that you're going to need a personal miracle from god to get it off you now.

As you can probably tell, I try to stick to trying on dresses with quite a bit of stretch in the fabric these days. *g*

*whines* Zippers. Stretch. *Anything*. Seriously, what kind of a sick person gleefully creates bridesmaids dresses that they know will *torture those who wear them*?

Personal miracle indeed. Also fun--sister's giggling while you are trapped behind the gauze. She is *so* lucky I couldn't get my arms down. SO lucky.

I firmly believe that bridesmaid's dress were made to torture their wearer. It would seem that when a woman is getting married, that some strange chemical gets released into her brain which makes her choose dresses which will;

A. make her bridesmaids look as hideous as possible
B. cause untold torments to bridesmaids; or
C. A & B

That is, hands down, the best explanation I have *ever* heard.

*awed*

you forgot
D. spend exorbitant amounts of money on said dress.

I once worked for a fine fabric company, We occasioanly dols to brides (Henceforth referred to as DBFH - Demon Bride From Hell.)

One chose to be special ordered this amazing yellow silk fabric for her bridesmaids to purchase (at great expense)and have made into the (no doubt) hideous dress she had chosen. We tried every which way to say it and finally just came out and said, "This is a really lovely fabric (it was) but there are very very few women who can wear the colour yellow and look good in it."

Her response? "I don't give a damn how they look, this colour will look good in my pictures."

Bitch. So her 'friends' got to spends a minimum of $500 each on these dresses they were going to look awful in and never wear again so her pictures would look good.

That's frightening. And what an awful waste of money and good silk.

I'm so, so sorry, hon. But that wheeze is me attempting to breathe after laughing so hard.

You have a real gift for finding the funny in the agonizing.

I fully agree with you. Should you ever choose to get married? You should definitely subject your sister (the one getting married now that is) to the *exact* same torture.

The really scary thing? You made this retelling as absorbing as any fan-fic of yours I've ever read. Uh, uh-oh?

Yep, get even with your sister.

I'd love to see this monstrosity, uh, confection of a dress. *g*

*snickers and hugs*

Trust me, pictures of this will go up, because I want others to understand my pain.

And also, my hair is pretty colored and it makes me happy to look at it. Yes, I am that vain.

But God, do I look like a reject from wrestling in it. *sighs*

I wore a bridesmaid's dress for one sister. One. It was a sheathe, and my mom sewed it, so I made her leave me maneuvering room.

When it came my turn, I didn't want a big to-do, but his mom and my grandmother threw fits and I had one. In protest, I had my bridesmaids wear white blouses, their choice of style, and sarongs. Since two of them were pregnant at the time, they were very happy with me and gave gifts accordingly. My mother-in-law was not pleased, but I hadn't let her in on the plan. It was a good day.

It amazes me how many things people do that they don't actually want to for their weddings. I studied weddings for an anthropology class a while back, and came to the conclusion that weddings are things that we do more for our families and social obligation than for ourselves. How sad.
I should warn you, I have a fondness for swiss lace. *eg*
Of course, I may end up marrying a woman, and then perhaps I will have all my bridesmaids wear tuxedos. *g* Just for fun. Oh sure, plenty of women probably envision themselves and their fiancee in wedding dresses and a very traditional ceremony, but I kinda like the way women look in tuxedos, generally. It could be a theme thing.
-Silverkyst

Kind of like the Chinese idea that the parents are spending bunches on the wedding and making a huge deal out of it so the kids feel obligated A) not to jilt the bride/groom before the ceremony and B) to stay married, just because of all the money that was spent?

And I suspect there are a lot of mothers arranging daughter's weddings the way they wished theirs had been. You know, the stuff they couldn't do at their own wedding because their mother was arranging things her way or their father said it would cost too much or whatever. Me, I like the whole Las Vegas elopement idea.

I've never been a bridesmaid. (Though at one of the three weddings I've attended in my life, I was a three-year-old flower girl and dressed the same as the bridesmaids.) My sister is talking Halloween wedding, and I'm hoping for corset and big poufy skirt for the dress -- I don't think Lauren will screw her best friend over in the dress department, which gives me hope.

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