Because I live in Malaysia and my family lives in the US, I miss a lot. Birthdays…anniversaries…weddings. My sister is getting married in September and I’m going to be the (gasp) Matron of Honor. There must be a better title for this. Mistress of Honor, perhaps?
I was thrilled that I would be home to help her choose her wedding gown. Selecting the perfect dress is such a special event, highlighted by memories, tears, maybe champagne.
My sister is beautiful. We said she would look good in a paper sack.
We were wrong.
We spent a day at David’s Bridal and learned not all dress buying experiences were created equally. David's is sort of a one-stop-shop wedding factory. It wasn't the personalized experience we were after.
Our "helper" kept disappearing. I'm pretty sure she went out for a ciggy and a chat with her parole officer. I think she even managed to get her nose pierced while we waited for her to bring us (any) dress.
She turned up once every fifteen minutes with the wrong dress, in the wrong size.
My mother and I dabbed tears from our eyes, but it was from laughing at how silly my sister looked rather than how beautiful.
I’m sure David’s has some nice dresses, but none crossed our path this fateful day.
Later we did find the perfect dress, in the perfect shop…but you’ll have to wait until September to see that one!