For years I've been telling people how terrible the bridesmaids dresses at my sister D's wedding were. I've described them for friends: thin sheeting cotton in pastel rainbow shades (mine was peach), trimmed in poly lace with iridecent threads, ill-fitting, with an asymmetrical hem and large bows. There were matching lace chokers and fake flower wreaths as well. I would see my friends cringe, but assure them that they could not fully appreciate the truly hideous dresses without having seen pictures.Well, here they are. The pictures were sent by my mom, and they are very faded (this was back in 1996), so you cannot fully see the colors we were wearing, but you get the idea, I'm sure. Any brighter, and you might have nightmares for a week, in which pastel dresses threaten repeatedly to pull blueberries out of your boobs (don't ask).
My sister's dress was mint green, and yes, the bodice and sleeves were covered in that terrible lace. They didn't fit any of us correctly; the "seamstress" (I use the term very loosely) had measured and fit us all, and then somehow managed not to get a single one of the dresses right.
This picture seems to suggest I needed to get doped up to endure this experience. I wish that had been the case.
Yes, that is indeed Tabitha. Funky dancing. She still dances like this. Dancing crazy was her outlet for the horror.Brides, an entreaty: do not do this to your bridesmaids. No friend or sister or cousin deserves to be dressed this way, and then immortalized for all time in pictures like this. We don't club baby seals or pull the wings off dragonflies, so don't be this cruel to us.
That is all.
