So, just as I was thinking we were wedding failures for not taking any pictures, a whole album full show up in my inbox! Unfortunately, since I didn’t really know anyone, I feel super weird about putting their faces all over my B, so you are stuck looking at us.
Let’s talk about the Dress Fiasco of 2011. It happened. For whatever reason, every girl in the United States of Tessa wants to buy a new dress for every.single.stinking.occasion that it was ever appropriate to wear a dress to. And by the US of T, I just mean me, but maybe you are included in that as well? Here’s how the DF of 2011 went down:
Once upon a time, Ryan invited me to come with him to a wedding in Ohio. And in response, I said “Si, I do want to come, and no, I will not be a brat the entire time” (for real, I’m pretty sure this is the conversation that happened). So then the dress hunt began. I searched high and low, up and down, digging through racks and racks of dresses via the internet. Basically, I clicked on a few websites and decided that a certain mauve colored number would be perfect for the occasion. It was on sale for a few dozen pounds, and I’m pretty sure it was mailed to me from the United Kingdom. I eagerly tracked my dress as it landed in New York and then traveled its eight day trek down the east coast. Finally, it arrived in good old Cornelius, North Carolina where there is only one zip code to speak of. And then. It was not deliverable as addressed and was sent back to its UK home. Really? Tiny little Cornelius couldn’t figure this out? And I can’t type in my delivery address correctly?
So then I searched high and low, up and down, digging through racks and racks of dresses on the internet again. Basically, I clicked on a few websites and decided that a certain taupe colored one-sleeved number would be perfect for the occasion. So I waited patiently for its arrival.
In the meantime, I got super impatient and hit the streets to search high and low, up and down, digging through racks and racks of dresses – the tangible for real kind in the stores. I found a certain little black ruffled number in a Birkdale boutique while shopping with my friend, Krista. Although they didn’t have my size, the overly enthusiastic sales lady assured me that it would get to her store in time. And then I remembered that I wouldn't be able to pick it up in time, so Krista saves the day and rescues the perfect little black dress for me, and I love her for being such a good friend. And then. I hate the dress. I absolutely hate it.
Then on the night before going to Ohio, I see that the certain taupe colored one-sleeved number that would be perfect for the occasion has been delivered to my home. I beat the 5:00 traffic and slip into my dream dress. I love the dress. I absolutely love it. And then. I realize that my entire right breast is exposed because it is one-sleeved and is about two sizes too big. Seriously?
So, to end the DF of 2011, I wore a perfectly fine silver and black dress that I bought in 2008. Lesson learned.
And I must say that Ryan looked smashing in his “I don’t know … earth?” colored suit, new shoes, and tie. I pretty much think he’s a stud. Did I mention that we had a blast?