Wednesday, September 22, 2010

The root of all evil

The other day I had an experience that just confirms the attitude of so many people about brides and how it is their magical special day.

While fitting a bride, a couple had brought in their son for a tux. Normally, I find young boys adorable in tuxes. This little demon may have changed a few things. See, I try to tamp down on my rage and create a peaceful, pleasant experience for my brides. I've been there and I understand that it can be a stressful situation (key term:can). It is a less attainable goal when your little monster is literally running around the shop, screaming bloody murder in the dressing room (I think my tympanic membrane has ruptured), and treating the dressing room curtains like they are your own personal matador.

Typically, we have idiots bring in their kids and let them run around several times a week. I hate it, but they all start to blur together in a sea of rage. This one, however stuck for a few reasons.

1) The child in question was about 5 or so. Old enough to be on good behavior for 20 minutes. I'm not expecting dinner with the queen, but could you at least not try to pole vault over my bride's skirt?

2) The child had a name. This name embodies all the reasons why this child is messed up. STFU Parents can back me up on the connection between bad name and bad behavior. There is a direct correlation. His name? Andrews. Yes. Plural. Probably spelled with a y in there somewhere.

3) While my bride was changing, Andrews's (?) mom grabbed his arm and told him he was not allowed to run into that dressing room (we have 4) because "there's a princess in there!" She even tried to sound all mystical about it. Really? Really?!? You can't just stop him from being an unholy terror for a few minutes, but have to use fantasy novel fodder to keep him from trashing only one dressing room?

Good hell.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Wow. Just wow.

Since it's been a while, I thought I would share one of my favorite stories. I should go ahead and say right now that this did not happen to me, nor in any of the shops I have worked in/with. It happened to a friend I worked with who not only made me do a full spit take when I heard it, she also gave me permission to post it*. Yay!

Quite often in this industry we are confronted with brides who are rather sheltered. Much as I don't want to have to explain the facts of life to a girl who should have known them for years, it does come up. At this point I am rarely surprised by the deer-in-the-headlights look on a fresh young face when I ask if they will be going on any oral contraceptives. The fact is, I kind of need to know that since some people react strongly to the hormones. It does me no good to fit a dress to you and then have you call me a week or two later complaining about the bust feeling too tight. Even so, this shocked me.

My friend was working as a consultant in a higher end shop and had a girl and her mom come in looking at dresses. She was getting married in a couple months and tried on a few things, but nothing was really doing it for her. Friend grabbed a dress that she thought the bride would like and waited while she put it on. After a few minutes the bride came out and it wasn't sitting at all right. The problem was that the bride, whose chest was a bit larger, hadn't properly placed the girls into the dress (this is common knowledge, right? You have to kind of lift and set in know about this, right?)and the result was an unfortunate quad-boob effect. Friend tried to delecately tell her that she needed to adjust herself and the dress would look fine. Here is the transcript:

Friend- So if you just pull the top down and kindof set the chest in place it will look right.
Bride-*Vacant stare*
Friend- Yeah...just go ahead and lift yourself into the dress.
Bride-*blink* huh?
Friend- *Getting a bit frustrated* Ok, you are going to have to lift and set your breasts into the cups of the dress for it to sit properly on you, so go ahead and reach in and do it. You can go back into the dressing room and do it if you are more comfortable.
Bride- Um, that's M@STERBATION!!
Bride's Mom- *nodding*
Friend- *Head explodes from the stupid*

Yup, she actually thought that the act of touching her own breasts in a purely functional way was self-love, but she decided to make the statement at full volume in a very busy shop. Way to keep it klassy!

I have just a few questions for her like how do you shower or put on a bra or what if, heaven forbid, you get the dreaded itchy boob? Also, you do realize that you are going to be getting married in a month and your husband will be expecting to be granted access, right? Should my friend have refferred to them as your dirty pillows? Ah, love. Stupid, silly, over-sheltered, basic biology shunning, Jesus horse riding, Darwin side-stepping, shameful love.

*I love stories. Love lovey love. If you have crazy stories, email them to me and I will give you mad props and a pony**.

**Pony not available in all areas.

Monday, September 13, 2010

A whole new me...complete with stories!

Ok, I have no idea if anyone even checks in on this blog anymore, but for those who have been waiting around for more crazy, know that I (eventually) give the people what they want. I had to take a bit of a break due to some health issues, but I'm doing well now and am ready to share some craziness.

When last we left, super crappy bride was wanting a bunch of stuff changed on her dress. Eventually, she was finally happy and became her husband's problem. Or so I thought. About a week ago I got a call from her and about screamed when her name showed up on my phone. Instead, I politely answered the phone and tamped down on the rage while she told me that the dress needed some touching up and steaming since the dry cleaner put it in a washing machine. I think it bears repeating. The dry cleaner put a handmade SILK gown in a washing machine. When I took a look at it I was torn between being super pissed that this white monster that commendeered a better part of 2 months of my life was irreparably damaged in about half an hour and wanting to grab a black sharpie and tag the stupid thing. Since I suck at being assertive in person, I agreed to steam it and fix a few things, though I did tell her that I would be charging her and that it would never be how it once was.

On a more odd note, I had a bridesmaid who started out normal, and went to a whole weird place. She emailed me a few times and we set up a time to meet. The day before, her husband called to confirm the time and I thought nothing of it. That fitting, he came with her and had to give his stamp of approval on everything. It was a bit strange, but I figured he was just helping her out. Nope. Every phone call received about the dress was made by him. Every fitting, he had to be present and had to tell her what he thought. Any calls about changes to the dress were made by him with her kind of talking in the background. It was all very strange. In person, she was personable, friendly, and even outgoing. So why, may one ask, is she not allowed to make a phone call?* It just gave off a very Edward from the books that shall not be named stalkerey-overprotective-he-just-kidnaps-me-because-he-loves-me sort of vibe.**

Anyway, consider me back with a fully charged snark battery. I feel the need to bash on some dresses.

*I don't actually know if she is "allowed" to make a phone call. I suspect that she is. But I haven't witnessed it.

**Do not get me started on this series. I get very stabby and can rant for hours. Literally.