No, I Won’t Be Wearing This Mess Of A Dress Ever Again
Published: August 10, 2009
There, I said it. What 95% of all American bridesmaids (I’m not entirely sure about bridesmaids elsewhere, as I only have 4 Weddings and a Funeral and other similar British comedies to judge the rest of the world) think to themselves or, at least, voice to non-partisan 3rd parties after having to shell out at least $150 bucks on a dress they will never wear again.
Oh sure, every bride starts out her bridesmaids’ dress adventure with (or something along the lines of) “Don’t worry, if you just hem it a few inches and remove the tulle that makes you look like a ballerina on crack and get it dyed black then you can CERTAINLY wear it again! It would make the perfect cocktail dress!” I’m sorry, my little Princess Bride (oh, how I love that cinematic adventure!), but there’s got to be something about becoming the bride and the center of attention that triggers some mental fashion disease which seemingly forces you, whether you like it or not, to end up choosing the most unflattering dresses for your ladies-in-waiting. I wish I could say that this only afflicts a handful of brides each year, but unfortunately I must report that, after an intense, scientific study of the last few weddings I’ve attended this past year, this illness can reach even the most fashion-forward wife-to-be.
Sadly to say, I, my friends, have been a victim of this budget-swindling, grimace-inducing, resentment-creating ailment. I have also witnessed its effects on many a friend – with the worst I’ve seen at the most recent wedding I attended over this past weekend. Picture this, if you will: The Afflicted – A smart, young bride whom I’ve known since before we thought boys were cute and worth almost 100% of our mental energy. Then, try to imagine: The Victim – A smart, young bridesmaid whom I’ve known since, well, the womb basically. Now, before this whole wedding thing, my bride-to-be friend and I always seemed to be on the same, preppy-New England style page. Lilly Pulitzer, Vineyard Vines, Vera Bradley, etc. were all mutual friends of ours. In fact, when she began to plan the wedding and the bridal party wear, it seemed like she was headed in the right direction and that the bridesmaids would end up, on average, content with their lot.
Holy hell, was I ever wrong. I arrived at the hotel Saturday morning, still groggy from the 3,000 mile, trans-continental redeye (am I a good friend or what?) but coherent enough to get a decent recap from my bridesmaid friend about the past week’s festivities and – dah, dah dum dum – the bridesmaids’ attire. First of all, they were floor-length, full-blown, “I didn’t realize your wedding was actually a prom?” gowns. And they were pink – like petal pink – like the pink of my high school prom dress pink. Pretty in pink, if by pretty you mean OH MY GOD SERIOUSLY? Of course, my wonderful bridesmaid pal has been known to, ahem, be a little dramatic at times (she’s always been the actress of the group – in a good way) so I decided I wouldn’t pass judgment until I’d witnessed the dresses myself. Yet, she also mentioned another red flag – the dresses were tight as hell and, after breaking the zipper (keep in mind her body is smokin’) the designer had the crass to ask if she had gained too much weight since the first fitting or if it was, ahem, her time of the month. Wowza, I was a little floored by that. Still, I chose to keep my mouth shut until the ceremony.
The Ceremony: A traditional, Irish Catholic wedding at a traditional, Our Lady of Sorrow and Sadness and Catholic-Guiltness church in suburban Westchester county. I have no qualms with traditional ceremonies – I, in fact, will probably have a pretty traditional one so as not to be disowned by my mother. I am perfectly fine with tradition but what I am NOT ok with is the seizure-inducing procession of bubble gum that filed down the aisle before the bride (in a BEAUTIFUL gown, I may add) strutted her stuff towards the altar. My bridesmaid friend couldn’t have described the dresses any better – in fact, I wouldn’t have faulted her had she been a little more critical of them. This is when it hit me – there’s got to be some sort of bridal fever that causes one to completely ignore the figures and complexions of her supposed-closest girlfriends and choose a dress shape and color that is so unflattering to anyone it would make Heidi Klum cry and that Project Runway fat contestant’s human hair-woven outfits look enticing.
It is this reason why I refuse to hold my dear, now-married friend accountable for such a decision – so long as this illness does not continue to affect her own style choices or her future children’s matching outfits from Crewcuts and LaCoste. Only then will I be forced to stage an intervention. For now, I can only pray to the gods of wedding coordinators that I will not be yet another victim to this bridal affliction. May I only learn to cope with my friends as they take the big plunge into marital life – and hope that I only have to spend one or two more paychecks on Goodwill-bound, dress disasters.
Here’s the reason you’re not wearing that dress again.
For the record, I still wear the same jumpsuit whenever I cum on Vanity.
I absolutely ABHOR when brides say “and you can totally wear this again!” It’s a bridesmaid dress–it’s not really meant to be worn again, and whatever, that’s fine–just OWN UP TO IT. My qualm is not even so much with being forced to spend money on this crap as it is having the expense justified to me. I will spend 200 bucks on this Godawful dress, but don’t add insult to injury by pretending it’s anything other than it is–a fluffy confection of terribleness designed to suit your whim, which is either seeing people making asses of themselves in hideousness or making you look better. (Or, more likely, a combination of the two.)
@DahlELama: Exactly. Please own up to it and don’t try to say I’ll wear it again. If I agree to be a bridesmaid then I clearly love you enough to say OK to shelling out some dough for you – herego forsaking my vanity for, ahem, your own.
But I honestly don’t understand how these kinds of dresses have become the norm for bridesmaids attire – aside from the two reasons you mention… but how can a true friend justify that reasoning without having some sort of bridal-instigated insanity?
@Birdie: In the interest of full disclosure, my bridesmaids hated the fabric* I chose for their dresses. It was a deep blue-violet raw silk, looked good on everyone, and I got tons of compliments on it at my wedding, but they hated it. I thought it was beautiful. I have to think that sometimes, brides just have different tastes. (Just own up to it–like you said, I’m paying for the damn thing, and I’m wearing it because I love you. Let’s not pretend it’s universally loveable or beautiful.) That said, so many of these dresses are so obnoxiously awful, that I have to think the bride is on a steady diet of crack and cement glue.
*Ortho Jews often give fabric so the bridesmaids can have a dress made in their chosen style instead of choosing dresses for everyone to buy, because most bridesmaid dresses are sleeveless. As a result, we rarely end up with the poufball creations, but when you’re given light blue satin, all the design skills in the world can’t fix that shit up.
I have never worn a wedding dress. It’s not that I don’t think I’d look good in one – I would – it’s just that I’m not that big a fan of marriage in particular.
My sister-in-law just got married. Bridesmaids were instructed to find a black dress that they liked. It worked just fine.
@CaptFan: Your sister-in-law is the bride everyone else dreams of maid-ing. “Just buy a black dress” is the greatest instruction a bridesmaid can ever hope to receive.
@Captainfantastic: Your sister-in-law is a good woman.
I was not attended at my wedding. I despise bridal culture. My dress was a light periwinkle and tea length, made by a designer friend. I look lousy in all white and I sure as hell wasn’t putting my friends through that nonsense.
I once went to one where the three bridesmaids wore vintage Pucci and they did a little shimmy down the aisle. The bride followed in a 1970s bright red TIGHT satin jumpsuit, no bra and high heels, an ensemble that would surely give a dog a bone. Now THAT was a wedding!
@SFBirdie: Oh, and by the way, I’m so happy you’re finally finishing your stuff and posting it! (Especially this, because I adore all things Bridezilla…I could read about wedding disasters for hours…)
@Books: Vintage Pucci! Red satin! Informality at a wedding! Could it have been any more perfect??? Luh-huuve!!! I wish i was there.
@wrappy: You know it, babe. It was a winter wedding, too, which I love. Food was Vietnamese and they had make your own sundaes for dessert! It got really sexy up in that room. So totally fun!
@Books: Absolutely perfect. I take it this was a New York affair?
@Yep. I was assisting the DJ, I was not an invited guest, but I still had a great time. A woman started humping the DJ’s leg when he played “More, More, More” by the Andrea True Connection. After the song finished, off they ran. I had to (wo)man the turntables for about 45 minutes. I think I was the only one not fucking in the eaves that night (I was working, I have standards!).
@birdie: So true. This is the biggest lie brides tell. I’ve maided 4 times. 3 dresses were actually in decent colors – no barbie pink – but formal, floor-length gowns and in my tax bracket, we just don’t attend functions where that would be re-usable.
My best friend awesomely had no bridesmaids, a family-only ceremony and big party afterward and wore a forest green gown to her wedding.
Wait! I lied. I did reuse a bridesmaid dress once. The first one – a buttery yellow tea-length with a big bow in the back – the following halloween I put long sleeved t-shirt, and green tights under it, made up my face ghoulish white and took my little sister and her friends trick-or-treating as a dead prom queen. I may have worn combat boots.
I saved this post all day so I could comment thoroughly and completely this evening on this topic that has been one I have dealt with many times. Lilac seersucker with a lace inset over the decollatage, made by the bride’s mother. Midnight blue irridescent taffeta with tulle-filled sleeves and a huge bell skirt. We carried lit candles under big glass containers that everyone almost dropped. Off-white shift with the most uncomfortable off-white pumps I’ve ever worn in my life. And same goes with the “you can wear this again” crap.
I had the decency to get married at the courthouse in a polka-dot dress from Speigel that cost about $30. The judge cost $25 and my sister paid for the hotel. Mr. Penguino was going through a hippie phase and looked like the fourth member of ZZ Top. God, how I wish I could post that picture.
Thanks, Birdie. Everything you said NEEDED to be said!
@Mama P: Oh My God, how much do you want for the lavender seersucker? That sounds incredible.
@DahlE: I meant to say more about it but a wet naked child ran into the room so I had to cut it short. I can’t believe I’m saying this in a public forum, but the worst part of the lilac seersucker was I had slept with the groom! They were one of those couples that were on again, off again, and frankly, I never thought I was that close to the bride, but she apparently thought otherwise. They’re divorced now and she, at least, has been remarried and ran off with an old classmate at our 10-yr reunion and then ran off with that guy’s best friend to Minnesota, and so on.
maybe i’m not such a nice friend. if somebody asked me dress like a clown on a 4-H float on main street anywhere USA i’d tell ‘em to fuck off. i really would. actually, no, i lied. i would tell ‘em that i had malaria or whooping cough, or something, but i would not wear the thing.
OR go to the damn wedding.
@cakes: Women need to say “fuck off” more often to this nonsense. The primordial bridal vortex of suck is so nefarious and powerful, though, that I know few who have.
Say No to Matchy-Matchy!
SFB- I think its the norm for hideous bridesmaids dresses because that’s what’s out there. Let’s face it bridal shops don’t offer many good choices but its hard to not use a bridal shop and have all the girls in the same dress. Honestly I like that places like JCrew are offering wedding party lines. I would actually wear a jcrew dress again
@Strawberry: I completely agree – I recently went bridesmaid dress shopping with one of my closest friends and, wow, talk about a lack of decent choices!
I love love love the fact that J. Crizzle has bridesmaid-appropriate dresses now that can actually be worn again. My friend’s sister had her bridesmaids wear one of their dresses and my friend was about to use it again for a charity dinner!
SFB- I always suggest other stores for bridesmaids dress. lots of department stores (nordstorms is actually really good) have good choices that are wearable again! Bridal shops are such a trap!
We were married in my parents’ living room. We sort of had bride and groom’s maids. But mainly that just meant that we gave them presents and we had some of them read poems I’d selected. I just told my girlfriends that they should wear whatever they want. If they want to use it as an excuse to get something new, go ahead.
They were all dressed totally differently: from pumpkin linen to thrift store sequins. And I love those photographs of me with my four girlfriends because they all look so distinctive. I wore my grandmother’s cream silk satin dress. They don’t make fabric like that any more: the kind that drapes like a dream.
But I’m with BookishLookish: I despise bridal culture. However I remember when I was getting married I bought a couple of bridal magazines for fun — and they provided hours of entertainment. My girlfriends and I would go through them and mock the hideous dresses and be horrified by the retrograde attitudes.
In fact I did everything to make sure that my friends didn’t have to spend money. We were all in graduate school at the time and no one had any money. They stayed with friends of my parents. I refused to have a shower. (Which is not the same thing as saying I refused to shower!) I told my friends that I felt like we had so much more household stuff than my single friends and I really felt that they should not be buying me stuff for my home. Our parents and their friends can get us matching plates.
It costs ones friends money to travel to the wedding. It seems like making them buy a hideous dress on top of that is rather obnoxious. I mean. Unless everyone is really rich and money is not a problem.
@Korainhell: I flew cross-country to get to this wedding, and all the bride said to me – as I was leaving for the airport to return home – was, “You didn’t make it to the post-reception bar party! I can’t believe you!” Joking or not, a thank you for traveling so damn far (and coughing up money I don’t have) would’ve been nice.