I promised my take on a Wedding Wednesday, and I rarely don’t make good on my promises.
Some of you know the drama that surrounded my bridesmaid’s dress and some of you are about to learn right now. Buckle up, bitches.
The dress arrived 6 weeks before the wedding and it would not zip up. What the hell? I checked the measurements and I compared against J.Crew’s sizing to ensure that the sonofabitch would fit. But it didn’t. ***insert HUGE panic attack***
Me and the dress travel to an alterations place that Lacey recommended and they did a wonderful job, letting it out a whole 1/2 an inch. Yes, a half of an inch. They also made mention, several times, that the zippers used on these dresses were less than steller. Okay, okay, noted.
But it fit like a glove and looked amazing. I was so excited, totally dying this shit black so I can wear it to an awesome NYC event.
Fast forward to the day of the wedding. Scratch that. Fast forward to 30 minutes before the wedding. We get me into my dress. I get my lip gloss out of my bag and hear a noise. Then I felt a breeze. Holy fucking shit.
MY ZIPPER BROKE!!!! It completely broke. Split it two. Pulled right apart but was still zipped. So the bride and her lovely mother had to pin my ass back in. And fed me glasses of Champagne.
I’m really good about making things about me, obviously.
I don’t have any photos of me all safety pinned up, but I will. So you hold tight.
But at the end of the night, when it was time to take the piece of shit Dessy dress off, we couldn’t get it off because the zipper was stuck in the “zipped” position. So….we ripped that motherfucker right off. In two. Split it in two.
Dessy, if you’re reading this, you assclowns, I’m coming for you.