In Which I Get Over My Delusional Optimism About My Wedding Dress

LAURIE:A few months ago, I bragged about having found, in the space of five minutes, the “perfect” wedding dress for just over $100 at Barneys. Last week, I tried the dress on again and faced the truth: it is an unflattering, inappropriate dress, and I cannot wear it to my wedding. I like to think of my boobs as one of my major assets, and this dress smooshes them into the dreaded sports bra-like uniboob, only with no discernible support. It has a puckery, straight-across neckline that is the opposite of everything I like to wear. The waist, such as it is, doesn’t match up with my own waist. It’s too sheer. It clings in all the wrong places. It looks like something that a chubby Los Angeles housekeeper might wear over her bathing suit, with flip-flops, to vacuum Brandon Davis’ rumpus room.

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Chest of horrors.

In the back of my mind, I sort of knew that it was wrong when I bought it, but so strong was my urge to be done with the whole disagreeable business of buying a wedding dress that I just forged ahead with it. I told myself that the dress would work if I just found the right bra and shoes. This is an example of my characteristic delusional optimism, which doesn’t always lend itself to good planning.

In Which I Get Over My Delusional Optimism About My Wedding Dress