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Monday, July 2, 2007
pinkmilk: alterations brooch
got the measure of you brooch
today's post is in honor of that time-honored tradition: the dress fitting. that is to say, the ridiculous traumas we put ourselves through for a one-time event.
lest i sound bitter, let me divulge to the blog-reading world -- today, i bought boobs at nordstrom's. that's right: i took the subway to the hated, dreaded, ridiculously crowded mall, made my way to the women's lingerie department, and plunked down thirty-eight american dollars so the strapless satin ballgown my sister has selected will not *slide* off my body in front of a chapel full of family and family-in-law, who, as everyone knows, are strangers who feel entitled to make bizarrely direct personal remarks.
not to mention that on the way into said mall i ran into a couple i hadn't seen in a while and (since i'm constitutionally unable to refrain from telling morbidly self-embarrassing stories) immediately told them: i'm here to buy boobs!
dear lord, can't i just make up something cool, like, just here to queue for the iPhone? for the love.
if you're wondering, dear reader, as i'm getting the dress altered anyway, why i've gone and purchased falsies, here's an instructive exchange from my first round of trials at the Bridal-Store-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named:
- helpful fitting room attendant: "the dress will fit better once you're
wearing a strapless push-up bra."
- forlorn bridesmaid: "i AM wearing a strapless push-up bra."
i called my sister and swore in vengeance that i would go out and purchase world-class olympic pam-anderson double-D cutlets to eliminate the twin air-pockets in the sequined (did i mention?) chest of my new ruched satin ballgown. she calmly noted i should be sure and have them *sewn in*, as one of my duties as maid of honor is to *bend over* and straighten Her Majesty's train once she's arrived at the altar. god forbid two flesh-colored jello-crescents fall out of my dress in front of the minister. or worse: one but not the other. eep! O, shame! david's bridal #F11165 is your name.
then -- salvation! my friend delanie called from san francisco in a lather about seeing a friend at a party who looked like she'd gotten implants, but no! store-bought, from nordstroms, highly recommended and very natural (we'll see!). they're also clear, so when they fall out they will be stealthily cloaked on any surface and completely invisible. right.
ah, but there's more. now that i own these boobs i must venture out tomorrow -- again on the subway, like the blue-state, latte-sipping, hybrid-flexcar-sharing liberal i am -- with ginormous red satin beast, a whole-body pushup bra/al-Qaeda-torture contraption, and the cutlets in tow, to a place called "fashion dreams." yes, fashion dreams, i'm told, truly good at alterations in spite of sounding like a bad eighties movie. you can hear the theme song from the climactic dance-off: "fashion dreeeeeeems... she dreeeeeemed her dreeeeem of fashion...."
and i'm kinda scared of going and getting cinched in and poked at, and definitely afraid how much this enterprise will cost (didn't mention, the dress is 3 inches too short so it also requires another layer of fabric sewn in to cover my ankles). and that, friends, brings me back around to...
...this post! which i've given short shrift. the brooch is adorable, as are the other cotton-candy-fun, breezy finds at pinkmilk. from paris and athens too, ooh la la!
maybe if i use it to bribe my seamstress, she can keep me from my nightmare du jour: walking down the aisle, i step accidentally on the front hem of the dress, which is *ripped* down to my waist and i end up covering my naked girls with a hand over one and the bouquet over the other while my mom scrambles over my stepfather shrieking "just a minute! just a minute!". thousands of dollars in therapy, averted so easily with one well-placed etsy purchase...
more truly wonderful non-cutlet-related items at pinkmilk.etsy.com
p.s.: psst! brides and ladies of the small of chest! you'll see several different types
of cutlets commercially available, and i feel compelled to note that while takeouts
and cleavage cupcakes appear identical to nordstrom's intimate enhancers (yes,
they're *really* called that), nordstrom's are $5-$20 less expensive than online/
boutique prices. at this amazon link, there are some other less-expensive choices --
in flesh-tone, or "chicken cutlet" as delanie might say. i almost bought some "as seen
on TV" cutlets around the corner one dark winter night, but couldn't bear the idea
of having to return my boobs to CVS if they didn't fit.
as you were!
Labels:
adornments,
fun,
tales
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