Tis' The Season To Be Scary...

"Hello, Dear.  Now come right over here and stand nice and straight for me.  Good girl!  And did we bring all three pieces for steaming today?"

I was perplexed.  And it showed.  I was also maybe a little bit scared.  This was silly because the nice lady asking the question was naught but a humble seamstress.  She was the embodiment of kindness and obviously gentle of heart.  And yet, all I could think in that moment was:  It seems to me that I am spending more time in the bridal shop than is good for the average middle aged, commitment-phobic Sheepie these days..."

But, it had to be done.  With my brother's wedding but a week away, the only other option for dealing with my too-long bridesmaid skirt was to staple the thing up to a manageable walking length and I didn't see Future SIL Sheep going along with that plan.  It was venture into Bridal Territory or risk tripping down the aisle.  And not in a good way.  I needed to overcome my fear of all things wedding-related and face my demons head on.  

It was something of an education.  For example, I did not know that when a bride walks into the alteration room, appointments mean nothing.  It does not matter that she only wanted to set up a time to come in and have her dress altered.  The bride takes precedence and civilians who happen to be sitting there in satin skirts, borrowed shoes and colorful, striped socks need to get out of the way.  

When my turn finally arrived, I explained that I only needed a simple hem.  You can imagine my surprise when it turned out that this meant I needed to be measured at all angles.  This, I am told, is procedure.  Had I been aware that waist measurements were needed, I would have been a bit more careful with the doughnuts yesterday.  

I had no real answer for why I didn't bring along the entire bridesmaid outfit except to say that the wedding is a week away and that we have entered into the "what can go wrong will go wrong" phase of the process.  I had felt it best to hang onto the top of the dress and the coordinating shrug.  You never know when one of the brides might go over the edge with the stress of it all and start setting fire to the place.  At least this way, I'd still have my top.  Although what good this would do me come wedding day, I don't know.  But it seemed to make sense to me at the time.

Besides, I noted, I have a perfectly good steamer at home.  I can steam the dress myself should it need it.  This caused the seamstress to gasp so heartily and with such horror that I feared she was going to suck all the oxygen out of the small space.  I thought it best to change the subject and quickly directed her attention back to my hemline.

Then she said, in tones so serious that you'd have thought we were discussing her performing surgery on me rather than my dress, that we needed to consider the "sweep."  I didn't even know I had a sweep, much less that I needed to consider it for any length of time.  I began quickly scanning my person for something that might be vaguely sweep-like.  I guessed it might be somewhere around my backside...

With obviously straining patience, she explained that the dress has a bit of a train.  She wondered if I wanted to keep that.  Again, I honestly didn't know that I had a choice in the matter.  Frankly, it seemed best to show up at the wedding in the style of dress that the bride selected for the event.  I don't know as she would have noticed given that she is going to have a few other things going on that day, but why take the chance?  I don't want to be the one they point to in the family album and refer to as That Rebel Bridesmaid Who Ruined Everything With Her Lack Of Sweep.  

By now, I think we'd finally started to understand one another a little bit better.  The Seamstress realized that I am The Hopelessly Undereducated In The Ways Of Bridal Wear Bridesmaid.  I caught onto the fact that she is The Seamstress Who Really Loves Her Job And Wants Every Wedding To Be Perfect.  With this bit of business behind us, we were able to chat pleasantly for the remainder of the turning and pinning.  

Finally, I turned over my skirt and arranged for a pick up date.  I was then led to the counter where I learned that it costs almost fifty dollars to hem a skirt.  No.  Let me clarify that.  Fifty dollars is what they charge for hemming a skirt.  It does not cost fifty dollars to hem a skirt.  It only costs that much if you wait until the last possible minute to get your alterations done and have no other options save trying to do it yourself.  

Given my basic sewing skills, I don't know as I'd be able to maintain my sweep.  I handed over my debit card without comment.  Then I went out and bought chocolate chip cookies for lunch.  Then I bought an industrial strength "shaping" garment to go under the dress because there is no way I'm going to lose the cookie weight by next week.  Then I took a nap.

You'd think that an hour spent standing in front of multiple mirrors whilst confessing to my utter ignorance regarding fashion might be a bad thing.  But, I must tell you that it was not.  Not at all.  I learned a lot and will never again be at a loss for words when someone wants to steam me or discuss my sweep.  More importantly, though, I did something I've never done before:  I wore a sweater out in public that had been knit by my own hands.  Yup.  The Blog Buster Sweater made its debut today.  And, as I had no other top to wear during this fitting, it stood with me in front of those multiple mirrors.  And you know what?  The flaws that I see in it were not really as visible as they seemed to be at home.  In fact, it looked pretty good to me.  Not perfect.  Not by a long shot.  But pretty darned good.  And it's brown just like my skirt so I was all matchy-matchy.  Not that I'd wear it to the wedding or anything.  But I could if the need ever arose.  

That's not going to be the issue, though.  I have the dress top here at home and will guard it with my life.  The skirt is on its own until Friday.  We are crossing our fingers that none of the brides go into flamethrower mode during the next week. 

Meanwhile back at the manse, the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty was using his unsupervised time to work on his Halloween costume.  He thinks he's come up with a good one.  If you wouldn't mind, could you pretend that he is very scary?  I think it would mean a lot to him..

(Lots of spaces.  Big Picture.  Can't make smaller.  Must get past Flickr thingie to see it...)

moar funny pictures



SA