It's been too long (2)
On the weekend several strange things worked their way into my novel, and Katie's novel, for that matter. Jessie (Scott's youngest sister, she's 6) decided that everything needed a moustache. Inclding butterflies. These worked their way into my novel. One was spotted on the Labatt mansion grounds, the other you will find out about soon.
Wedding dress shopping! Enid appears to be intent on controlling every part of the wedding. She calls Julie on Tuesday, while she's at school, to tell Julie she made an appointment at a local bridal gown shop, Nicholas and Elizabeth that coming Saturday.
By the time Julie arrives, Enid has already been there for an hour, pulling dresses for her. We learn that Enid has questionable taste. Julie wanders the store and finds a beautiful gown, then enters the dressing room. Hilarity ensues:
When Enid led me to the large, well lit change-room with a full length, full wall mirror, I was stunned. There were so many dresses. And all of them contained all three elements I had chosen as parameters to exclude dresses: ballgown, lace, excessive embroidery. In addition, one of them inexplicably had an bedazzled heart on the bodice. In the center of the heart was a likeness of Emilio Estevez’s face, circa “Stakeout”, with loopy scrawl underneath which read ‘Quack, Quack, Quack Mr. Ducksworth! Forever Love Emilio.’ I had to suppress a mad bark of laughter. Not only had someone decided to design this dress, but at least 18 people had to think this dress was a good idea for it to have arrived here in this changeroom, including Enid. This made me question her taste, just a little. I made a mental note to ask James about his mother’s proclivity for Emilio Estevez-embellished garments.
“Which one would you like to try first, dear?” Enid asked, bitchy saleswoman in toe.
I looked at the dresses, trying to pick out the least offensive. This proved a more difficult task than I had imagined. Each dress had one redeeming characteristics, but had a different, and horrific detail that made it unwearable. I decided to look for the most offensive dress, and work my way through them this way. And there was no way I was trying on the Emilio Estevez number.
“The one on the far right,” I said. It was a hideous pink dress with at least 35 pick-ups on the ballgown skirt, and excessive embellishment on the bodice. Upon closer inspection, the embellishment was butterly with an iridescent moustache. I imagined it would make my arms look rather scintillating. It doesn’t get worse than that, folks.
Wedding dress shopping! Enid appears to be intent on controlling every part of the wedding. She calls Julie on Tuesday, while she's at school, to tell Julie she made an appointment at a local bridal gown shop, Nicholas and Elizabeth that coming Saturday.
By the time Julie arrives, Enid has already been there for an hour, pulling dresses for her. We learn that Enid has questionable taste. Julie wanders the store and finds a beautiful gown, then enters the dressing room. Hilarity ensues:
When Enid led me to the large, well lit change-room with a full length, full wall mirror, I was stunned. There were so many dresses. And all of them contained all three elements I had chosen as parameters to exclude dresses: ballgown, lace, excessive embroidery. In addition, one of them inexplicably had an bedazzled heart on the bodice. In the center of the heart was a likeness of Emilio Estevez’s face, circa “Stakeout”, with loopy scrawl underneath which read ‘Quack, Quack, Quack Mr. Ducksworth! Forever Love Emilio.’ I had to suppress a mad bark of laughter. Not only had someone decided to design this dress, but at least 18 people had to think this dress was a good idea for it to have arrived here in this changeroom, including Enid. This made me question her taste, just a little. I made a mental note to ask James about his mother’s proclivity for Emilio Estevez-embellished garments.
“Which one would you like to try first, dear?” Enid asked, bitchy saleswoman in toe.
I looked at the dresses, trying to pick out the least offensive. This proved a more difficult task than I had imagined. Each dress had one redeeming characteristics, but had a different, and horrific detail that made it unwearable. I decided to look for the most offensive dress, and work my way through them this way. And there was no way I was trying on the Emilio Estevez number.
“The one on the far right,” I said. It was a hideous pink dress with at least 35 pick-ups on the ballgown skirt, and excessive embellishment on the bodice. Upon closer inspection, the embellishment was butterly with an iridescent moustache. I imagined it would make my arms look rather scintillating. It doesn’t get worse than that, folks.
I think this post describes my hopes for our bridesmaids dresses. Aunt Judy has a sewing machine that can be programmed for embroidery... just a thought.
ReplyDeleteAnd please, can we bedazzle something? Anything? Perhaps moustaches on something?
ReplyDelete