Forty pound, $3K dresses that still don’t actually fit.
Real Simple‘s wedding checklist suggests that I will need “at least three fittings.”
You know what kind of dress needs “fittings”? ONE THAT DOESN’T FIT.
If you have unusual body proportions of any kind, then surely I understand your need for tailoring. But if standard clothing sizes cover most of us for every other occasion of our lives, I fail to see how this is any different. I am a size 0-2. I am willing to buy a dress in size 0 and also size 2, and return the one that doesn’t fit. If neither of them fit, then design a better dress, assholes.
Also, strapless dresses? If you, dear reader, look amazing in one, god bless! I think that for at least 80% of the population, a strapless dress makes you look either flat-chested or saggy (you know, with the weight of a forty-pound dress hanging from your boobs), or else you’ve got some highly engineered corset under there that shoves your boobs up to your chin but, sadly, makes all your extra fat pop out somewhere else (like your back or armpits!)
Again, if you looked lovely in your strapless dress, cool. But I fucking refuse to wear any dress that requires special underwear of any kind. Also: receiving lines! The LAST OCCASION on which I want to wear a strapless dress is one during which I will hug literally dozens of people. That is an engineering failure waiting to happen. And by “engineering failure,” I mean “pressing your naked breasts into a World War II veteran.”