Never a Bride…..
Well, that’s how the saying goes anyway!
It just so happened to be my third time as a bridesmaid just last month, so according to legend, that’s my chances scuppered!
I was about eight when I first donned a frilly little dress and nervously edged up the aisle after my godmother. I remember thinking her dress was huge, very frilly and impossibly lacy (well it was the 90s!) and wondering if she would get it all up the aisle with her in one piece; whether it would catch on the chair legs, people’s handbags or small unsuspecting children!
When you’re eight, the comments bridesmaids get are things along the lines of ‘Pretty dress dear’ from the ancient great aunts, to ‘Are you having fun?’ from random strangers who you’ll never see again. I don’t know what type of fun they used to have when they were eight, but sitting up very straight and still trying not to crease the dress whilst remembering to smile for the photos was a bit of a strain at that age.
It didn’t help matters that the presence of The Brother wandering about in the background not having to do any of these things and occasionally looking rather shifty, made me very distracted. Who knows what he was up to, but you can bet the very bottom of that fabled dollar that whatever it was, it had to be a darned sight more fun than what I was achieving as a life-like waxwork model!
My other two experiences happened much later on, and were the utmost privileges as both brides were two of my oldest and very best friends. Each occasion still had it’s ’arrrggghhh!’ moments, and a few of these stick out very clearly in my mind:
I went off shopping with Bride number 1 to choose my bridesmaids dress. Perfect, fab…Jolly good, got that then! Will be even better come the wedding day because I’m planning on loosing whole mountain-ranges of weight, and Mum will be able to take it in for me….
Let me publicly apologise dearest friend, for the sheer amount of stress and strain I put you and your husband-to-be under. It was a week before the wedding when I came to try on said dress. Humn. The mountain range plan hadn’t worked as well as I’d hoped, and now not only did I have a previously perfect fitting dress that was currently a good 3 inches too small, the shop where we bought it had discontinued the design. Disaster!
Lets just say Mum worked wonders after all, but it was by adding in a stole of the same material the length of the dress. Anyone who didn’t know anything about dresses (men and children mainly) probably didn’t notice! I hope.
It is a wonderful testament to my friends that they are still talking to me after that giant cock-up! I think you’re both amazing, especially as I had a tad bit too much pink fizz at the reception, kept bashing my head on the very low beams (people in medieval times were incredibly short!) and had to go home early because I couldn’t stop crying and it was all too much for me! They now have a fabulous little boy who keeps us all entertained on a regular basis. Come to think of it, it’s about time I had them over for dinner….
Then came last month’s wedding. We weren’t taking any chances with the dress this time, so Mum was charged with making them all. Bless her! What a star!
She was still putting the finishing touches to mine 24 hours before the big event. All was proceeding to plan until we got in the car to go to the lovely country house for the ceremony. On the way I might have accidentally spilled a drop or two of champagne on the other grown up bridesmaid…..
Never have I tried to flap something dry as hard as I did on that seemingly endless journey. Has anyone else ever tried flapping as a method of drying garments? Don’t! It’s very difficult with not much to show for it at the end!
So what could have gone wrong next? Well, I stepped gracefully out of the car with my bouquet firmly in place (the dress had managed to be rather on the low-cut side so my flowers spent as much of the day as possible doing a cover-up job!) and the first person to come and greet me, slopped a great big glass of wine down my front!! Cue more flapping! It was rather funny in the circumstances, and once my friend had finished her epic stream of apologies we got on with the party!
So do all these encounters with dresses, flowers and being the special lucky person who gets to take the bride to the loo, mean that I won’t ever get to have my own day? Who on earth knows! I know that the likelihood of me ever tying the proverbial knot is pretty darned slim (the only thing about me that is!) but not because of some silly saying or superstition.
Shh though! Don’t tell my Mum there might not be a wedding… She’s already planning the dress! Maybe I’ll hire a yummy actor who’ll elegantly waltz into a church with me on the big day? After all, it wouldn’t do to be the only single person in the world now, would it?
The phrase ‘On the shelf’ needs to be confined to spices such as Oregano and Paprika, not human beings!
I’ll work on it and let you know. In the meantime, if anyone needs a bridesmaid, I have dresses, will travel!
Love,
Fatty Blob Head
