Three times in a row I've been to the gym. Pretty good, eh? This is as a result of another wedding dress incident. I have become miffed off with Cancer Research since my last foray into wedding outfitting. They told me that there was another shop I could go to, which had squillions of wedding dresses that I could just rock up and try on. Great - what excitement.
The shop with lots of dresses is a little out of the way - not really accessible by public transport - but still, the very next day, I make my way there - mother in tow (you know how mothers love these sorts of things). Upon finding the shop, we wander in and see a line of wedding dresses, which I start looking through to see if there are any I like - but hang on - they all look a bit small. Further inspection reveals that they all are, in fact, a bit small. All bar one are size six. But the good news is that the one which isn't a size six is a size smaller than I usually am. Great, I'll try it.
Or maybe not. Because it is tied up with that security wire stuff they put on leather coats are in those luggage shops on Oxford Street. Fine, so I'll ask the lady behind the counter. The conversation went like this:
Me: "Is it possible to try on this wedding dress?"
Her: "No."
Me: ...
Me: ... erm ...
Her: (to the other lady working in the shop, in a "can-you-believe-this" type tone) "This girl wants to try on a wedding dress!"
I am now starting to wonder what's so funny. Could it be that these ladies think I am so hideous that no one would want to marry me? Is it that they can tell the dress is one size smaller than I usually am and that me trying it on is simply laughable? Is it that they think I am so deluded that I have spotted the size six dresses and got it into my head that one of them might fit me? (Actually, that is quite funny - but not the case). So what is it?
Other Lady: "Oh you can't try those, dear."
Me: ...
Me: "... erm ... why not?"
Other Lady: "You have to make an appointment. And it'll have to be on a week day."
WHAT? I can't try things from a rack in a charity shop? I know that in normal wedding dress shops you usually have to make an appointment, but this is a charity shop - shouldn't they be making it a bit easier to give them your money?
But no - I have to make an appointment, during the week (work hours) so that the manager can pretend that she works in a wedding dress shop.
I am cross now. The ladies in the other shop told me just to turn up. But as if that isn't bad enough, the Other Lady tells me they have a few more dresses upstairs too. Then looks me up and down and says to me "but what size are you?".
Now I know I go on about my jelly-like body and my generally wobblingness, but the truth is, I ain't no half-ton mum (I'm not a mum at all - but you get the point...). As far as I know, you wouldn't actually look at me and think "good grief - what sort of lump is this". I might be a bit of a dollop - but what I'm getting at, is that you wouldn't look at me and think I am any sort of abnormal size. I may be particularly tall - but there was no question about my height - just about my size.
So not only have they doubted the possibility of anyone wanting to marry me, told me that they have made it as dificult as possible for a person to try their wedding dressing and therefore give their money to charity, but they have also told me I'm a lard bucket.
Sod them. They can stick thier dresses down their guffawing throats.
(Well, I say that, but I'll probably give in - because weddings are expensive and charity shop dresses save money - if only it were possible to access them).
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