As my anniversary approaches, I thought I should share with you all one of my “Tales of a clumsy bride”.
My tales of a clumsy bride begin with me as a mousy, unsupervised, complete pushover bride-to-be. As if that wasn’t cause for humiliation in itself, I decided to purchase the first bridal dress I tried on. After all, it had ticked all the boxes required of a princess dress, and I was nothing short of a princess. The awkward part came when I was presented with an array of underwear that I needed to make myself look amazing in my dress.
The dress was white with delicate soft pink flowers and small pearls stuck precariously in the middle of each bud, I thought it was such a sweet dress. I knew right away that this dress was something a lady would get married in. Topped off with pearls and a tiara, yup I was a lady indeed!
Even though I may burp after slurping down a soda, I am still a lady.
Happily, I purchased my dress, only to be bombarded with all the things I needed to wear underneath the heavily beaded dress. I am no stranger to upselling, in fact, that has seamlessly become a part of the American culture, but the upsell in the wedding business is bananas! There was the corset, the bra, the undies, the garter belt, the thigh highs, the stilettos, and the petticoat.
I had to get the stilettos, my husband-to-be is over six feet tall.
I have to mention that I suffer from anxiety and sometimes that anxiety makes me shrink. Especially when I am overwhelmed. In this situation, I did just that. When the lady presented me with all this stuff, I didn’t know how to say no to her.
She also did a great job of selling the point that all this excess stuff, that I just couldn’t buy anywhere else, would make my day extra special. Despite being on a budget I spent over $ 200 on undergarments. (That did not include the adjustments needed)
Feeling ashamed about my overspending on things I would only wear for one day, I decided to only get the waist taken in and the shoulders softened.
I am mentioning this because, in my infinite wisdom, I put two and two together. Let me explain, I decided since I was wearing stilettos aka really really tall shoes, I did not need my dress to be hemmed.
The awkward and slightly humiliating ceremonY
The big day arrives, and amazingly I was not the slightest bit nervous. I hate to sound cliche but my husband-to-be was and still is my best friend.
That was just about the actual getting married part, which did not include the “walking” down in front of a crowded church part.
I’m walking down the aisle in my fancy dress, only to suddenly remember that being the center of attention makes me break out in hives, and blush like a little innocent girl.
Now, remember when I said that I was a pushover, or I mean that I can be. Well, I was planning on having someone do my make-up but my husband to be thought it would be sweet if I gave my sister-in-law the job.
I wanted her to like me so I said yes.
Honestly, she did a good job. The foundation was just a little too light and I ended up looking like a ghost in the pictures. But the bright side was, at least I didn’t have to do my own make-up.
Then there was my hair.
I imagined I would have flowing hair, like a medieval princess or maybe a princess from the 18th century. I tried to voice this but I chickened out and the hairstylist decided she wanted to load my hair up with hairspray and giant curls.
I am sure I was radiant but, I was a child and I pouted.
Now, back to walking down the aisle. As I said, I was in stilettos and I refused to get the hem done. I also mentioned that I get anxious around large crowds.
The church had already upset me by not allowing me to have Charlotte Chruch playing while I came down the aisle. Something about her being a teen mother, and unmarried.
Ok, enough sidetracking and back to the aisle. The church was full of family and friends, about 120 people. Some I knew and some I was to meet later.
The clumsy Bride
In my imagination, I knew I would walk down the aisle looking like an elegant, classy woman. People in the pews would gasp, some would clutch their chests and others would dab the corners of their eyes.
All would be amazed at how lovely I was. They would murmur to each other that I was the most beautiful bride, possible of that day. Of that year even!
But alas that was not to be.
As I dragged the giver of the bride down the aisle, I elegantly stepped on the long edge on the bottom of my dress and…
See my dress was too long, so long that when I practiced walking in it that morning I had tripped a number of times. I figured I would have to hold up the dress as I walked, which was ok that was lady-like, right?
However, as I walked down the aisle and my anxiety grew I completely forgot I had to hold the dress.
If you guess what happened you can start laughing now.
Cause it happened, I tripped on my own dress. I flew down the aisle head first like I was a skeleton athlete.
Now, it wasn’t necessarily the fall that made me feel embarrassed or cause an alarming about of humiliation, It was the fact that my skirt had flown up showing off my $200 underwear. Talk about an awkward moment.
At least those babies didn’t go to waste.
The lesson we learned here? Hem your dress and practice walking in your stilettos.