Finding the Imperfect Dress for Your Mid-Life Wedding, cont.
What do you mean, my blog is late? When I said “tune in tomorrow,” I distinctly saw you think to me that you thought you had a “thing” tomorrow (which, by now, is yesterday). What I am is not late, but considerate: I kept you from spending even a minute having to feel guilty about missing my post.
While you were so busy.
You know, with your thing.
But so, if you’re anything like me–and I think we’ve established that, except for the rude thoughts and the havings of the things, we’re practically the exact same person deep down–all this time off has left you a bit muddled as to what it was, exactly, that we were talking about in Part One.
You’re middle-aged and you’re getting married (huzzah!), and once you’ve dispensed with the notion of having to look like a traditional bride, you are as free as the wind to wear whatever you want on your great big special day. But, like the wind (whom we shall call, for the sake of privacy, “Mariah,”) you are crippled by the number of choices you suddenly face.
(No no, it works. Think about the plastic bag in “American Beauty.” All over the place, right? Am I right?)
Luckily, you do have some fairly specific teenaged daughters (whom, like the wind, you’ve rendered universal through clever use of pseudonym), and a modest (for a wedding dress), but sizable (for a normal dress), budget that should allow you to look absolutely amazeballs on your mid-life wedding day.
Unless you screw it up.
But how could you possibly screw it up? You’ve got six whole months and a killer sense of style, if your cats (who, because you work from home, are the ones most likely to notice your outfits) have anything to say about it (and oh, they do. They do!).
You just need to take a deep breath and think about ways to narrow the search down.
Let’s start with some self-evaluation. Study your body, to better understand the looks that might suit it. Ask yourself some tough questions, like, for instance: Are you tall?
Then you are nothing like me! Why are you even here? Get off my blog.