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Inch By Inch, Detail by Detail
Sep. 30th, 2004 10:55 pmEventually I will reach the point where I can write about something other than my upcoming wedding with any sort of regularity. I would guess that 'eventually' will be somewhere around November, but such is life. Right now, my world has narrowed down to a tiny bubble of work, sleep, and last-minute fiddly bits.
I have my dress. It's all done and hemmed and bustle-able and fitted and tucked and ready to wear. I am endlessly afraid that it will be too small, and that it felt too tight at the store today, but my marvelous maid of honor has assured me that I am hallucinating, and that it fits just fine. This is good, because it leaves me free to worry about the other issue of bustled wedding gowns, namely that of Butt Momentum.
I have worn voluminous clothing before. I have dealt with hoops and bum rolls and heavy fabrics, and can fairly rapidly adapt to the concept that I suddenly have a personal space bubble as wide as I am tall. I had figured that this would be no different. Intellectually, I had embraced the fact that I would be dragging an extra yard or two of heavy satin from my skirt. Apparently, though, I hadn't managed to understand what that would do for my motion once it was tucked up into a neat cascade.
The bustle is adorable. It's swoopy and poofy and somehow elegant at the same time. It even has a little dip where I can hide a cell phone, though the clerk assured me that that was not intentional. It also makes the back half of my dress weigh about three times as much as the front, in almost the same amount of space. Moving around in it, I feel vaguely like a Weeble-Wobble.
This is going to make vigorous waltzing a unique challenge. Of course, superstition makes it impossible for my fiance and me to practice in the appropriate getup. Yet another detail that none of the etiquette books and wedding-industry magazines don't warn you about....
I have my dress. It's all done and hemmed and bustle-able and fitted and tucked and ready to wear. I am endlessly afraid that it will be too small, and that it felt too tight at the store today, but my marvelous maid of honor has assured me that I am hallucinating, and that it fits just fine. This is good, because it leaves me free to worry about the other issue of bustled wedding gowns, namely that of Butt Momentum.
I have worn voluminous clothing before. I have dealt with hoops and bum rolls and heavy fabrics, and can fairly rapidly adapt to the concept that I suddenly have a personal space bubble as wide as I am tall. I had figured that this would be no different. Intellectually, I had embraced the fact that I would be dragging an extra yard or two of heavy satin from my skirt. Apparently, though, I hadn't managed to understand what that would do for my motion once it was tucked up into a neat cascade.
The bustle is adorable. It's swoopy and poofy and somehow elegant at the same time. It even has a little dip where I can hide a cell phone, though the clerk assured me that that was not intentional. It also makes the back half of my dress weigh about three times as much as the front, in almost the same amount of space. Moving around in it, I feel vaguely like a Weeble-Wobble.
This is going to make vigorous waltzing a unique challenge. Of course, superstition makes it impossible for my fiance and me to practice in the appropriate getup. Yet another detail that none of the etiquette books and wedding-industry magazines don't warn you about....
