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.

Maybe a desk job is in order

I know I've been gone for a bit. Unfortunately, I have been dealing with the most awful bride of my entire career. It has gone past the point of being ridiculous or funny. She commissioned a custom dress with a time-line of only 2 1/2 months. For those who don't know, ordering a dress from a shop typically takes 4-6 months, and custom can take the same or longer. I agreed to do it because I am an idiot.
Initially, we were on the same page and things were going well. Then she started bring a camera to fittings and asking me to take pictures. Sure, no problem. She'd leave the fitting happy and then I would get an email the next day saying that she was unhappy with the pictures. Well, I am no photographer and my studio is made for sewing, not for taking nice pictures. Oh, and she's not a size 2, 5'11" model that's been photo-shopped.
I won't get into details about all the changes that have been made or how one week the skirt is too puffy and the next it's not puffy enough or how it's too long and I warn her that taking off more will make it too short but she insists and the next week she thinks it's too short. I won't even tell you the story of how she up and decided that it wasn't quite dark enough and could I just dye it darker (hell no!). I can't even laugh about it anymore. It makes me stabby and upset and I just want it to be done.
Yesterday was supposed to be the pickup fitting. Operative word: supposed. She was happy and smiling and wanted only a couple tweaks done to it, which I agreed to. I took a couple photos, explained why a certain thing was happening to the skirt in it, and sent her on her way finally happy that she had been reasonable.
This morning I woke up to an email complaining that the dress looked different in each photo and she wants to try it on with a crinoline (puffy slip, basically) and that the dress looks "awful" in the photos. Yes, she said awful.
My response was to tell her I don't just have crinolines lying around so she'd have to find her own and that it would make the skirt shorter and she'd just have to deal with that since I am not changing the length. I said some other stuff too, but I really don't even want to deal with it anymore.
People have asked me if I watch Say Yes to the Dress or Bridezillas. I don't. I live those shows and don't get paid to watch them. They hit too close to home and I don't find them entertaining or funny. It sends me into flashbacks of crap brides I've dealt with and some memories and people are better forgotten. It's funny from the outside, but there are times when being the one on the receiving end of that kind of crazy is too much to handle. I have thick skin; you have to in this industry. I can laugh off most situations (hence the blog) and join in with everyone in wondering how I can do this for a living, but know that it's not always so bad. Occasionally, though, there comes a bride that still finds a soft spot.

Not dead

But a certain bride is about to be. The short version is that a bride came to me asking me to recreate a designer dress. I agreed to do it and all happiness left me that day. We've had several fittings where she is fine with things and then the next day I receive an email listing out all the problems she has with the dress, most of which I already talked to her about at the aforementioned fitting.
I thought we were good, but the last week she has gone insane. All of a sudden she decided that she wasn't sure about the color of the dress. Well, kitten, I'm afraid that it isn't possible to take a giant silk gown and chuck it in a dye vat. Most recently she wanted to see if the ~200+ yards of ruffling could magically be gathered more tightly. Long story short, she is now deciding whether she wants me to remake the entire skirt. I wonder if any fast food places are hiring...