- Family weddings are always a big deal, as opposed to, you know, the weddings of friends or acquaintances
- LuthierSis is a perfectionist. In the extreme. Everything must be perfect and everyone must be excited and colours must be co-ordinated (I can get behind that one, at least) and so on
- The Baby is a flower girl. At one and a half. Gawd help us.
I, on the other hand, wear make-up only when I'm going out (or dancing), am... competent at it's application, but in no way particularly skilled (like, I don't really bother with my brows to colour them in and all that shit. I don't understand how to apply fake lashes and remain in terrified awe of them). I get my nails done as an exceptionally rare treat, although I paint them myself a little more often (again, rarely, and only for occasions that are special and whatnot.) My hair is like the arse pelt of a particularly coarse and belligerent bear.
I am back to the top end of my weight fluctuation. I am OK but not thrilled with this development, particularly in the context of being in a highly photographable event alongside slender, perfect chicklets. Bah.
Here's what typically happens when I'm faced with this type of scenario, and indeed with attending weddings in general
I grumble about how much I hate weddings.
I avoid trying to think about how I'll have to buy an outfit for an event I don't really want to go to, and looking a way I'm not happy with, and therefore will procrastinate on going shopping for said outfit.
The weekend before (or worse, the closest midweek late shopping night next to) the wedding, I will panic and head to the shops for several hours, looking round multiple shops in an increasing state of rage and distress, finding nothing that I like. I will buy the first thing that I can find that physically will fit (at least kind of passably) on my odd-shaped body, despite hating the cut/fit/colour/material/pattern and so on.
I will attend the wedding in the outfit that I hate, feeling frumpy and sad and horrible, convinced that I stick out like a sore thumb in my horrid emergency outfit, and not enjoying a minute of anything. After the wedding the despised outfit will be assigned to a bin, with much cursing.
Genuinely, this is a predictable pattern with me and big events. This has probably happened at EVERY SINGLE WEDDING I have ever attended. It's how I ended up wearing a full length brown (silk, admittedly) bias cut dress to my graduation ball. I mean I'm sure it would have looked nice on SOMEONE, but on me it looked like some kind of Boudoir Potato Sack and that was a very fucking bad look for me.
Here's what I've done this time
I have spent a lot of money.
HOWEVER. I am happy with an outfit, and in fact kinda jazzed by it, for the first time in probably a decade.
I have bought this dress. I originally tried to find something in purple or lavender, because that's the wedding theme colour. But I found nothing that I liked, so I checked out the kilts the Luthier and other fellas were wearing, and it featured navy. This meant I could buy a pair of navy shoes and matching navy bag I'd been eyeing as "perfect for a wedding", and THEREFORE could justify a navy dress. Yup, I bought the outfit from the shoes up, people. It's how I roll.
Sweet Jesus, I just spent ages putting this goddamned photo onto Flickr to be able to put it here and I'm not sure it's gonna work. Fucksticks. Anyway, these are the shoes and bag. Can you see the problem here? The problem that completely ruined my buzz at treating myself to these, that sparked an angry email to their Customer Service department? What the FUCK is the deal with the non-matching flower stamens?! WHAT THE HELL?!
I'm a little bit... anal about colour co-ordination. So this led me to scouring the internets for the proper blue-grey colour stamens. I just... I have a problem, people.
So. I now have a project to fix the handbag, AND to jazz up a very plain fascinator that I bought. Stay tuned...