So my eldest daughter is getting married in a few weeks. Yikes! Even saying that sends me in to labored breathing, a cold sweat and a mini panic attack. It’s the real deal wedding, and there’s a billion things to do.
Every day my ‘team’ of bridesmaids and whoever else I have managed to wrangle into this process, works on some crazy task that has to be completed by W-Day!
Over the weekend, my youngest daughter came home from the big city to get her maid of honor dress altered and help me find the proper foundation for my dress.
Yes, I don’t care what kind of dress you buy as the mother-of-the-bride, it requires the proper foundation. You can make sure every sin of your past 50 years is covered, ruched, sleeved,or enlaced, and you will still need to tuck, smooth, pucker and lift to get the fit that will be photographed from every possible non-flattering angle that any videographer, photographer, selfie freak and snapchat bitch twerking around you on the dance floor can catch at just the wrong moment.
Unless you have already done this, you have no idea how MANY choices of foundations there are on the internet, the department store and the black market for super secret coverage. But this is the thing, you either have to buy all these non-returnable undergarments, or cart this gown with you to every dressing room in the tri-state area to take off all your clothes, put on a gown that goes over your head, weighs 10 pounds itself and then push and tuck and rearrange all the floppy, sloppy parts that you are trying to camouflage for just one day.
Eureka! I find the magic solution to the problem areas I continue to encounter with each new failed undergarment. It’s a bra with clear sticky sides but no actual hook in the back. This foundation will not show through any lace, conflict with a low back or cause the proverbial ‘nip slip’ that a young Janet Jackson made so famous and would be cause for intense psychotherapy for all our wedding guests as something they could never ‘unsee.’
I get the bra adjusted, with my daughter’s help, I get her to zip up the side zipper on the gown. I see a bit of a look of horror on my daughter’s face, thinking: “She can’t believe how good I look in this dress!”
Then I look in the mirror.
I now have four boobs.
Two that I’m pretty sure I own, and two that come in the lining of the dress. Since the dress has a side zipper, I can’t reach down the neckline of the dress to pull up the bra and settle it in behind the lining of the dress. My daughter pulls down the zipper and tries to reach in from the side, as I try and do the same. But with four boobs and two hands we just can’t get enough leverage to lift and separate like the happy old days of yore and Playtex.
Besides, four boobs is comical. Not like Wonder Woman, more like crazy Lucy and Ethel in a dressing room comical. And were are laughing so hard the tears are rolling down our faces…but I do not want tears of tragedy or comedy on this dress. So I get it off as quickly as I can.
I won’t lie. I tried the dress without a foundation. The only thing that did was show me that life is not worth living without a good foundation.
The dress and I are hitting the road, no not for a comedy show, to hopefully make it work baby, just in time for W-day! Wish me luck and keep laughing, kids!
For more of my humor go here