Made From The Right Cloth - Part II

So yeah, I am now in the market for a good jacket. I did have an initial discussion with the dress’ design house regarding the possibility of them making the jacket. I made the mistake of asking for their help however which was about as useless as having tits on a bull. If you tell them exactly what you want then they can be quite accommodating but if you ask for their assistance or their advice on what would be a suitable design, they sort of stare at you blankly and ask “well what do you want?”. I am perhaps being a little unfair though as the girl who was discussing the jacket with The Boy and I was quite nice and she was at least trying to help. I was just a little frustrated by the whole thing.

I am not a designer myself. I will confess to usually knowing what looks alright once I see it on but apart from that, I am by no means an authority on fashion. I also haven’t got a scrapbook full of pictures and designs to act as the cornerstone of any negotiations. I don’t know what I want. We’ve been through this before. This is why I am not confident about suggesting something because I am pretty sure that it may not be the best thing at all but that someone is just going to go off and design exactly that regardless. I don’t want people to take the design away from me exactly but I would like some suggestions or perhaps some idea that they actually consider whatever guidelines I discuss. I’d like to believe they actually thought whatever was decided upon would actually be the best option and not merely the design the customer happened to request.

I ended up feeling a little guilty as well. I do say “ended up” feeling rather than “was made to feel” cause that wasn’t exactly the case but the end result was the same. Without a clear idea of how to move forward I felt like I was being difficult because I had walked in without knowing exactly what it was that I wanted. I felt like I was asking the girl to do something that wasn’t her job (despite the fact that I had made the appointment specifically to discuss the design of a tailored jacket). I also felt like I was wasting her time when I asked if I could go and try the dress on again, if I could look at other fabrics against the dress and just have a discussion with The Boy about general ideas rather than sitting down to put something to paper. We did get something in the end though. Which I may not use at all in the long run.

Of the other designers that I had been to see, there was one who I felt did actually understand the vague style ideas I had discussed (which is quite a feat really) and whose aesthetic sensibilities seemed to match my own. We had discussed the option of her designing me a bridal outfit before I saw The Dress. As a designer however, her mainstay is actually Jackets and not so much the dresses so I can actually still see myself in one of her creations. We just have to come to an agreement on the price and the work. And of course I have to stop feeling guilty that I decided not to go with her design for a dress but would still like her to design the jacket. Stupid perhaps as I’m a paying customer but there you go.

Made From The Right Cloth - Part I

So it seems there may be a light at the end of the tunnel. After the copious hours of surfing the net looking at pictures, numerous appointments with designers and the tedious effort of getting into and out of gown after gown, I actually found a dress. Again. Only this time I put down a deposit. So its more like I found “the” dress rather than “a” dress. On a recommendation from a colleague, I visited a bridal outlet in Melbourne whilst in the city for another wedding and The Boy picked out a pearler. Yes it was The Boy who picked out my dress – but that was “picked out” and not “chose”. I’m not that liberal. It wasn’t what I’d been looking for at all but at the same time it seemingly fulfilled most of the requirements I had on my list.

The dress is not white, off-white, ivory, ecru, cream, eggshell or any other shade of “white” currently out there in the market. The dress is in fact a colour. I am not quite sure what colour it is because it is not exactly any colour I can actually think of however, but they call it “Antique”. The dress has quite simple lines and is not lacy, frilly or “busy”. It has some detail to it but it is not otherwise encumbered by a multitude of beads, stones, pearls, ribbons or other additions to the basic structure of the dress. It has a train which can be adjusted for dancing and most importantly, I look great in it. On the other hand, the dress does not have a fishtail skirt (which was an initial wish) and is in fact more of an A-line affair such as I was advised to wear by the evil bridal store owner but there is no point in cutting off my nose to spite my face. I will just have to live with the fact that part of what she said did get the better of me and I have seemingly gone with her recommendation.

Of course, having found the dress, this is only half the battle as I fully intend to wear a tailored jacket to my wedding. Since we’re holding the thing in Winter (and we do plan to have location shots) I’ll be damned if I’m going to freeze my assets off whilst my new husband revels in the fact that he gets to wear a three piece suit to ward off the elements. I need something to keep my back and my shoulders warm and I cannot think of anything more tacky than a faux fur shrug. If you think that they’re God’s gift to the evening dress then I’m sorry but I wasn’t born in Russia. There is no need for me to wear a fluffy bit of fur to my wedding, either the real stuff or the fake stuff.

And can I just ask, what is the go with some of the shrugs out there anyway!? Whilst I was getting instruction about what I should wear to my wedding so as to avoid looking like I’d been trussed up and served ready for the taking I was told that the witch could sell me a very nice shrug. She told me lots of girls buy them because they just need that something extra over their back and shoulders. Thats where you really feel the cold. What she then proceeded to show me however was an item neither functional nor aesthetically pleasing cause it looked a whole lot cheaper than it actually was and it sure as hell didn’t come anywhere near my shoulders or cover a significant portion of my back. I failed to see the point of the thing at all. And I thought that the woman needed a good anatomy lesson. Even 4 year olds can identify at which part of their body their shoulder is located.

And The Award For Customer Service Goes To...

It is this week’s conclusion that if the men out there in the industry who think they know everything are ‘Wedding Wankers’, then the women who believe they are a monarch of all things matrimonial are potentially the ‘Bridal Bitches’. I was actually somewhat offended on the weekend when I was shopping for wedding gowns. I suppose I should have known better when the owner got a bit too free with the “darl” in conversation at the time the appointment was made. To be honest, I don’t actually have a problem with people calling me darl in general but when its patronising I kind of want to point out that I was given a name and if they’re too stupid to remember it then I will quite happily give them leave to write it down on a piece of paper so they can shove it where the sun doesn’t shine and maybe that will help them remember. I would never do that of course but the thought has run across my mind once or twice…

So I was asked if I had been to any other stores, tried on any other gowns and if I had found anything that struck my fancy so to speak. I recounted a couple to make it known that I had already begun my search and intimated that I had a vague idea but I was still looking at options. I also described one dress that I had really liked. I mentioned that the dress was from a well known bridal designer in the centre of the city, how the dress was styled and fitted and finally the colour which happened to be bright red. Without a pause, the owners automatic response was, and I quote “Oh Yuk!”. Far be it from me to tell you how to run your business and treat your customers lady but it has been my experience that out in the commercial world, a lot of businesses and owners alike are devotees of the axiom that the customer is always right. Regardless of your personal opinions and preferences, red is not an unheard of colour at weddings and is in fact traditional for the Chinese, you have not seen the dress either by itself or on me so you really do not have an accurate basis on which to judge and you just blatantly insulted my taste since I had already told you I liked the gown in question. Where did you learn your manners? In the barnyard?

Unfortunately it didn’t really a great deal better from there either. After I had tried on a few gowns, she proceeded to insinuate that I had a fat bottom! I am actually not a big woman by any means (or so I thought). I have been told previously that I have a tiny waist however I was blessed with hips. As a result, no matter how much I exercise or lose weight (and conversely gain weight), I will pretty much be one dress size bigger on my lower half than I am on the top half. I actually quite like having curves though and are not opposed to showing them off in a dress but I was advised that given my body shape, I really need to keep an open mind and should be looking at a style than minimises my backside. Now that I have looked at her gowns and found that most (but not all) were too tight over my hips, I should be a little more “realistic” about the options that are available to me. So once again I was clearly wrong. I am apparently one of those fat girls who secretly thinks she’s a size 6. Irrespective of the fact that every other bridal attendant has advised me that they would order in the dress size that fit my hips and would take in the bust where necessary, I now have it on good authority that I won’t look at all attractive in that type of dress and I should cut my losses and go for something else. Beggars can’t be choosers apparently. They certainly can’t be prudish either.

Now it’s a damn good thing that I have come to terms with my fat posterior and none too buxom assets as there didn’t seem much of an option for modesty with this particular woman. As I soon found out when I started wedding dress shopping, you frequently find yourself standing in changing rooms with an attendant in nothing but your knickers. As you go from dress to dress (and your rear end is a little gravitationally challenged) the dresses need to go on and come off over the head. As they are also so much more expensive, awkward and sometimes delicate than you’re average t-shirt, someone else needs to actually dress you. Now most of the other attendants who have dressed me have made as much allowance as they can for a customer’s modesty. They have allowed me to undress and face the wall or have threaded their arms through the top of the dress, right down to the hem of the skirt, and raised it high in front of them so I could pretty much dive into the dress without being seen until the dress was covering what it should. This woman on the weekend however would watch me stand with my arms over my chest and pick up most of the skirt and reach out her arms just below chest height. She would then stop so I had to lower my arms to pick up the rest of the skirt in order to slip the gown on over my head. She pretty much made it impossible for me to avoid flashing my breasts at her. Now as I said, I have come to terms with my figure and this is not something that has mortified me completely but I thought that she might pick up on some of the physical cues that I wasn’t entirely comfortable. Then again she did come across as having a few screws loose so I don’t know why I expected more.

I clearly have to work on my unreasonable expectations.

May I Be Of Service?

Why is it that the people who are the most friendly and helpful seem to work for the venues that we like the least? The boy is still doing a wonderful job getting quotes and researching locations for the wedding reception. We have been to discuss options with a few of the vendors too but by and large, most of them are not as helpful as they like to think they are. The zoo wants to be accommodating. Since we don’t have enough friends, they are happy to still let us hire the venue because they can option up the food and the beverage package accordingly. Which is basically a nice way of saying we have a minimum spend, get over it. Other places are prepared to be flexible too. They accept that Friday nights and winter bookings are not as popular and they’re prepared to negotiate but that usually entails you spending the larger amount for a package and having more inclusions of your choice.

That’s not really very helpful to us as we are afflicted with the small sphincter syndrome at present.

It seems that it is only once we get to the venues that not exactly to our taste that we get offers that are really accommodating. For the alcohol, we can choose a silver package but if we choose a “bronze” wine for that price, we can also choose a “gold” one as well. If there is something we don’t want in the “package”, we can be credited the equivalent cost or substitute the addition with another. Oh and if we happen to want to supply our own champagne or bridal table booze, this can be done without additional charge or loss to us as well. Some people just couldn’t be more helpful.

Unfortunately I am very quickly getting over the whole thing. I have definitely found another career I can cross of the possible options list because I hate wedding planning. At the moment I’m the farthest thing from a Bridezilla who wants the whole wedding her way. I’m actually trying to figure out if I can just not have the wedding. That’s easier said than done really. If you want your life to be liveable with family and friends after you are actually married that is. But whilst we are looking at potential venues to book, if I’m going to spend money for something I like then these places don’t quite fit the bill. If I get fed up with the whole thing and go for the cheapest option around then they’re not really on the maybe list either. I should definitely start praying to the Powerball Gods.