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I had a very laissez faire attitude when it came to my bridesmaids’ attire. Short or long, taffeta or cotton jersey, it truly made no difference to me. My requirements? To wear something they feel comfortable and fabulous in! That being said, it became clear after a few inquiries for criteria that perhaps complete freedom didn’t sit comfortably with them. Eventually, my awesome sister (and MOH) scheduled a trip to Michigan so the four of us could go dress shopping together. We started the day off right by filling our tummies at my favorite brunch place in Ann Arbor: Cafe Zola.
Our shopping expedition was a “do-or-die” sort of affair with my sister coming in from out of town, so I picked a place (that shall remain nameless) because they carried a wide variety of dresses. At first, they didn’t disappoint and a few favorites moved to the front of the line:
(Style JH5080)
(Style JH5926)
(source)
Here’s where I was genuinely surprised, because I didn’t expect my friends to gravitate towards floor length dresses. A cocktail length seemed inherently more re-wearable, and even though I brought this up none of them appeared overtly concerned (love you ladies!). Everything was going swimmingly until my sister came out of the changing room looking red carpet ready in this number:
(Style JH5033)
Before I get into what happened next, let me preface by saying that my sister is very self-conscious about her weight. She’s struggled her entire life with having a positive body image, and she does follow the blog—please keep that in mind! Alrighty, let the tale unfurl: the dress wouldn’t zip up all the way (oh, the joys of sample sizes), and as we looked around for elastic clips a completely random consultant scurried over and proceeded to pat my sister around the torso while chirping:
“My, you have a very…athletic…body!”
My sister clearly looked crestfallen, but the consultant continued her monologue and repeated the comment multiple times while squeezing my sister around the ribs. She then swept out of the room without doing anything helpful (like finding us elastic clips). My sister turned to me and said in a broken voice: “You know I’m not athletic…” and sadly shuffled back into the dressing room. Now, I’m sure the consultant was blissfully unaware of her blunder (at least, I hope she was), but it didn’t change the fact that we were extremely uncomfortable after that exchange, and I think we all lost a bit of our enthusiasm. It was time to come up with a Plan B.
Has anyone else out there had a bad experience while shopping? How did you manage the situation?
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