I suppose I should have given more detail on the previous post, but honestly I was extremely frustrated, tired, and ready to go celebrate national hamburger day.
This can go on my list of pet peeves and types of brides.
The indecisive bride.
She can't make up her mind about anything (hence the name) and is most commonly heard to say, "What do you think?" What do I think? I think that I am not the one getting married and I giant don't care! I just want to get home and have lunch before 4:00 p.m. (I did. I ate my lunch at 3:30). She will act like things are fine, and then after the fitting her mom has to call me and tell me that the bride isn't happy. She won't be able to tell me exactly what the problem is, but just keeps saying that her daughter isn't pleased.
Yesterday I had a fitting with an extremely petite girl. I had cut the bust on the dress down to fit her probably AA-sized chest. It was almost done and hooray it was looking really good. When she put on the dress it was sitting on her a bit high and she was clearly not pleased. I told her when she puts on the dress she has to kind of place her breasts into the chest of the dress and then zip it up (you ladies know what I'm talking about. Guys it isn't as sexy as it may sound). She did and lo and behold, dress sat perfectly. She still wasn't happy with how small her chest looked, which I had to figure out through her nonsense ramblings of "It's just...I don't know, you know. It's not, like...it...hmmm..." so I gave her some pads to put in. They made it look much better, and she seemed pleased. Her mom kept telling her how great it looked. Hooray! Fitting was over and I could go home.
Twenty minutes later my phone rings. Crap.
-Hi, it's brides mom. She was talking to me and she feels like the dress is still not looking quite right. Can we fix it before her bridal photos next week?
-Possibly. What is she not liking about it?
-Oh, I don't know, exactly. She feels like the boobs are too high or something. I think she is just being rediculous.
-Fair enough. So why didn't she say it at the fitting when I could have done something about it?
-She said that since you and I both thought it looked good, she couldn't say anything. I just don't want you to have to do a ton of work to the dress and then have to redo it because she is being weird.
At this point my eye rolling was going to cause a busted cappilary. It should be noted that her mom is awesome and has been good to work with. I'm just frustrated that my saturday is all screwed up now because princess tiny-boobs is not used to how a wedding dress looks. She wants me to try taking out the boning in the bust and see if that helps. I told her I could try, but once it was gone it's gone and I can't put it back.
Seriously, brides. If you can't vocalize what is bugging you, then you need some serious communication lessons. I understand that you are worried about using the wrong term or aren't really sure what about it is bugging you, but take a moment, really look, and then use your big girl words to tell me what you don't like because mind-reading doesn't go hand in hand with sewing. Shocking, I know. I would much rather hear someone say, "I don't know how to describe it exactly, but the bust seems a little wonkey," than, "Um...huh...It just...hmmm." If I wanted that sort of idiotic, stunted dialog, I would go rent Twilight.
Ladies, you need to be able to vocalize what you want. That is why you get crappy haircuts and then go cry about it later. When you're married are you going to have your mom call and try to tell your husband that you were just bugged because the toast crumbs on the floor make your delicate toes all owie. Put on your big girl panties and say something or swollow hard and deal with it. Gah!
Now if you'll excuse me, it's time I put my less-tiny chest in a bra, pull out my rosetta stone and try to decifer what this girl wants.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
New law for brides
If you are not mature enough to tell me directly what you want changed on your dress, but need your mom to call me 20 minutes after our fitting and explain what was bugging you, you are not mature enough to get married.
Agreed?
Agreed?
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Broke the tether for a moment!
Yes, once again I have been too busy with "bridal emergencies" to do any posting. Still am, frankly, but I am sick of brides and their attitude that all possible moments must belong to them. Before the dogs sniff me out and make me work some more, I do have a story.
I had a bride who needed extensive work done to her dress. Typically, I request 3 weeks to do alterations, but can do it faster if need be. Operative word being NEED. This bride "needed" her dress done in about 9 days because she was going to be doing bridal photos (which are lame) by a certain date. I was already annoyed because I told her that wouldn't really fit in with my schedule and she would have to have bridals pushed back. After much insisting on her part, I relented (gah!) and said I could have it done in about 11 days.
I busted my ass, even staying up until 3 a.m. the night before so her dress would be done and ready. That day she shows up for her fitting and is thrilled with the dress. Good. I tell her the amount and ask if it will be cash or check. Then the following exchange happens:
Her: Oh, I forgot my checkbook.
Me: Well there is a bank just down the road. I'll wait.
Her: Well the dress isn't fully paid for yet, even.
Me: I am aware of that and you will have to settle that with the shop owner, but I am separate from her and you'll need to settle your bill with us both before the dress can go with you.
Her: Oh, I wouldn't dream of taking the dress before it was fully paid for! Besides*, I don't need it for another 2 weeks.
Then my head exploded. She had rescheduled her bridals and didn't bother to tell me. 3 a.m. people. 3 A.M.! Brides, this is why people hate you. You treat everyone like little peons that should hup-to in order for you to have your perfect day and screw them if they want to try to have a life outside of your butter cream-covered sparkle world of mystical wonder.
Crap. Now I want cake. And sleep.
* Yes, she said besides. I hate idiots.
I had a bride who needed extensive work done to her dress. Typically, I request 3 weeks to do alterations, but can do it faster if need be. Operative word being NEED. This bride "needed" her dress done in about 9 days because she was going to be doing bridal photos (which are lame) by a certain date. I was already annoyed because I told her that wouldn't really fit in with my schedule and she would have to have bridals pushed back. After much insisting on her part, I relented (gah!) and said I could have it done in about 11 days.
I busted my ass, even staying up until 3 a.m. the night before so her dress would be done and ready. That day she shows up for her fitting and is thrilled with the dress. Good. I tell her the amount and ask if it will be cash or check. Then the following exchange happens:
Her: Oh, I forgot my checkbook.
Me: Well there is a bank just down the road. I'll wait.
Her: Well the dress isn't fully paid for yet, even.
Me: I am aware of that and you will have to settle that with the shop owner, but I am separate from her and you'll need to settle your bill with us both before the dress can go with you.
Her: Oh, I wouldn't dream of taking the dress before it was fully paid for! Besides*, I don't need it for another 2 weeks.
Then my head exploded. She had rescheduled her bridals and didn't bother to tell me. 3 a.m. people. 3 A.M.! Brides, this is why people hate you. You treat everyone like little peons that should hup-to in order for you to have your perfect day and screw them if they want to try to have a life outside of your butter cream-covered sparkle world of mystical wonder.
Crap. Now I want cake. And sleep.
* Yes, she said besides. I hate idiots.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
A word of advice
If you are having several custom bridesmaid dresses made and said bridesmaids are from out of town, maybe you could have them come in for a fitting sooner than the day before the wedding. Please. For the sake of the seamstress do not do this.
Yes, I have 5 bridesmaid dresses to make (well, two left) and I was given nothing more than a few measurements to make the entire dress. Granted, some people are awesome enough to be able to do this without any adjustments being made, but I am not one of those people. As you can probably guess, I won't be posting much this weekend.
Yes, I have 5 bridesmaid dresses to make (well, two left) and I was given nothing more than a few measurements to make the entire dress. Granted, some people are awesome enough to be able to do this without any adjustments being made, but I am not one of those people. As you can probably guess, I won't be posting much this weekend.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Weekly Snark
I know, I know. It's been longer than a week since the last one and I suck and all that. I'm still determining when I will have the snark day be, but until then it's going to be a bit unpredictable.
I should warn you all now that the spelling might be a bit off and the analogies may be less accurate. You see a magical thing happens when I am working consistently 12-16 hour days. Like the poet wrote, my body is a wonderland, but rather than having such features as a bubble gum tongue (uh..what?) I have broken bits that go on full rebellion when I overdo it. Currently, when I have a free moment to notice that I haven't showered in a few days, great amounts of pain crash through to my consciousness and demand my full attention. Something about unions, I suspect. Anyway, the point to this little story is that I am on some pain meds right now that don't make me the most lucid of creatures. They also make me realize that they don't play so well with delicate lacework. Not to worry, no one's dress got ruined. Yet.
So what could be more fun than me mocking wedding dresses? Me mocking dresses while on drugs that bring out the judgemental side even more. Yes it's possible. Shut up. You're fat.
On to the insults!
Looks like someone managed to set down their denim jacket and acid washed jeans long enough to sport this bedazzled number. Thank goodness that column is there so she can pose with her relaxed arm-shelf action. Also, what the hell is on the column? Is that supposed to be a carriage? Because I deffinitely though it was glitter cake or something. Really, I think it's the photoshop that makes this such a winner for me. In case I didn't know that each point of her silvery netting that was stolen from under a cake has a little something special, photoshop lets me know that there are sparkles to be had. Either that, or LED lights. Actually, LED lights on a dress would be awesome. Verdict: C-
What could be sexier than a giant, pink pillow that you find on you're grandmas bed? Freaking nothing! That's right, and this bride knows it. She's saying "Come hither. I am wearing the duvet, so we can have our tryst anywhere at all!" There is even a chair with needlepoint on it, so they totally are with me on this. I don't know if it's the meds, but as I let my eyes travel down the "skirt" it looks more and more like saggy flesh. Just me? Seriously, it's like I'm looking at a shaved shar pei. Verdict: Too much effing fabric!
All hail the accessory queen! Handbag, bracelet, necklace (presumably), earrings, bad highlights, oh and the innards of the duvet pictured above. Brilliant! To be honest, I am very much into the feathery illuminators with a touch of birdcage netting (even they know they belong together) but this has properly cured me of it, I think. It looks like she took a wrong turn at the Tyson chicken factory tour. Verdict: No
Even the mirror agrees with me. I'm glad that Deb stopped hanging out with Pedro and Napoleon long enough to get engaged, but lose those shoes, huh? The dress itself isn't terrible, I guess. The ruffles are pretty fun. It's too bad her scraped knee is bleeding all over them, though. Verdict: Your mom goes to college!
Oh, Australia. What new horror have you wrought for us now? Here is the creative meeting behind this design:
-She needs to look sexy, so maybe a corset?
-Oh definitely a corset, but those aren't so sexy on their own. How about we make most of the corset sheer?
-Bob, you are a genius! Could we somehow bring more attention to her boobs?
-Hmmm....well, if we throw a couple packs of those ribbon rosettes on them, people will have to notice, right?
-True...but it's not quite enough attention. After all, who notices breasts without some extra help, right?
-I've got it! What if the front of the corset is totally open. Like almost down to her navel. Surely, that would bring some attention to her funbags.
-Oy mate, truth! How bout we make the skirt look like a giant jellyfish!
-Oy!
And scene. That is totally how it went down. Verdict: Danger, danger, danger!
I should warn you all now that the spelling might be a bit off and the analogies may be less accurate. You see a magical thing happens when I am working consistently 12-16 hour days. Like the poet wrote, my body is a wonderland, but rather than having such features as a bubble gum tongue (uh..what?) I have broken bits that go on full rebellion when I overdo it. Currently, when I have a free moment to notice that I haven't showered in a few days, great amounts of pain crash through to my consciousness and demand my full attention. Something about unions, I suspect. Anyway, the point to this little story is that I am on some pain meds right now that don't make me the most lucid of creatures. They also make me realize that they don't play so well with delicate lacework. Not to worry, no one's dress got ruined. Yet.
So what could be more fun than me mocking wedding dresses? Me mocking dresses while on drugs that bring out the judgemental side even more. Yes it's possible. Shut up. You're fat.
On to the insults!
Looks like someone managed to set down their denim jacket and acid washed jeans long enough to sport this bedazzled number. Thank goodness that column is there so she can pose with her relaxed arm-shelf action. Also, what the hell is on the column? Is that supposed to be a carriage? Because I deffinitely though it was glitter cake or something. Really, I think it's the photoshop that makes this such a winner for me. In case I didn't know that each point of her silvery netting that was stolen from under a cake has a little something special, photoshop lets me know that there are sparkles to be had. Either that, or LED lights. Actually, LED lights on a dress would be awesome. Verdict: C-
What could be sexier than a giant, pink pillow that you find on you're grandmas bed? Freaking nothing! That's right, and this bride knows it. She's saying "Come hither. I am wearing the duvet, so we can have our tryst anywhere at all!" There is even a chair with needlepoint on it, so they totally are with me on this. I don't know if it's the meds, but as I let my eyes travel down the "skirt" it looks more and more like saggy flesh. Just me? Seriously, it's like I'm looking at a shaved shar pei. Verdict: Too much effing fabric!
All hail the accessory queen! Handbag, bracelet, necklace (presumably), earrings, bad highlights, oh and the innards of the duvet pictured above. Brilliant! To be honest, I am very much into the feathery illuminators with a touch of birdcage netting (even they know they belong together) but this has properly cured me of it, I think. It looks like she took a wrong turn at the Tyson chicken factory tour. Verdict: No
Even the mirror agrees with me. I'm glad that Deb stopped hanging out with Pedro and Napoleon long enough to get engaged, but lose those shoes, huh? The dress itself isn't terrible, I guess. The ruffles are pretty fun. It's too bad her scraped knee is bleeding all over them, though. Verdict: Your mom goes to college!
Oh, Australia. What new horror have you wrought for us now? Here is the creative meeting behind this design:
-She needs to look sexy, so maybe a corset?
-Oh definitely a corset, but those aren't so sexy on their own. How about we make most of the corset sheer?
-Bob, you are a genius! Could we somehow bring more attention to her boobs?
-Hmmm....well, if we throw a couple packs of those ribbon rosettes on them, people will have to notice, right?
-True...but it's not quite enough attention. After all, who notices breasts without some extra help, right?
-I've got it! What if the front of the corset is totally open. Like almost down to her navel. Surely, that would bring some attention to her funbags.
-Oy mate, truth! How bout we make the skirt look like a giant jellyfish!
-Oy!
And scene. That is totally how it went down. Verdict: Danger, danger, danger!
Friday, April 23, 2010
One of my pet peeves
When I get sick, I tend to get kind of pissy. Unfortunately, I got sick but don't get a break from sewing. There is no way of calling a bride and telling her she will have to wait for her dress because you don't feel well. Some brides are cool with being shifted around, but most are so caught up in their own world that they think even the viruses attacking your body are donning her colors and shopping for a gift. To those brides I say BOO, you whore! Also, enjoy getting what I have. Should make for a sexy honeymoon.
After waking up from a fitful sleep spent dreaming about fittings and sewing (last night it was all new people as opposed to current clients...don't know what that was about)I spent a productive morning thinking about the worst brides I have ever worked with. They typically anger me because aside from being horrible to work with, they hone in on my pet peeves. Having incured my wrath, they get titles rather than names and become an archetype in my own epic saga. I'm like Odysseus, really. Traveling in rough seas just trying to make it home. Or maybe I am all out of it since I took some meds. Really, it could be either.
Anyway, today, I bring you the tale of Entourage Bride. Most people when they come to pick out a dress will bring one or two people. The entourage bride has to bring at least 5. She does the same thing at fittings. No one is allowed to question her taste, but is only there to tell her how skinny/beautiful/tan she is and how excited they are for her. They are also allowed to cry and misuse adjectives when describing dresses (more on that sub-peeve at a later date).
The original Entourage Bride-EB for short- was always at least 20 minutes late to each fitting. She chose a dress that was rather meh, but I'm not the one wearing it, so what do I care. It was one of these dresses that is made out of the 80's super shiny, soft satin. If you ask me, this fabric has it's place...in jammies. Whatever. So since it feels all soft she proceeds to rub her dress during the whole fitting. Aside from looking bad, this gets oils from your skin onto the fabric and can be a bad thing, but what do I know.
EB had about 3 fittings with me and at each one brought 5-6 new people. It was remarkable. They sat and cooed over her and brought their infants (subpeeve!) and gave me dirty looks that there were pins on the floor that their precious little angel might eat. It wasn't until the final pickup meeting that I about went off on her and I never go off on people. I'm professional like that.
You may think from the name that a "pickup meeting" shouldn't take too long. The dress is done and steamed and you throw it on really quickly, say yay, and pay me my money. Hell, I thought that too. Apparently, EB didn't get that memo. She was 30 minutes late and when she arrived she refused to put on the dress until her stepdad got there and he was running a little late. 45 minutes into our 10 minute fitting, everyone is there, she puts on the dress and I am thinking I will be home and eating dinner in a few more minutes. Nope. The fitting went another hour and only ended then because the shop was closed and needed to lock up. She "forgot" that she needed to pay me and when I said I would be keeping the dress until the bill was paid in full, she remembered that her dad had given her a check to pay with. Yes, she not only tried to screw me out of my money, but it wasn't even coming out of her pocket!
The happy thing is the hilarious dialogues that ensued. Transcript time! Add your own super snobby voice for EB and the occasional eye roll.
Upon seeing a bit on makeup on the skirt (I rarely wear a bra when working, let alone any pageant-girl orange makeup):
"Um, why is there makeup on my dress?"
"Well, maybe some got on it when you were putting it on. It's pretty common, but easy to remedy."
"Oh, it couldn't be mine. I don't even wear foundation, I just have naturally good skin."
When I was having difficulty zipping up the dress:
"Oh my gosh, I just started birth control and it's totally made my boobs bigger."
Honey, your boobs are not located around your midsection. You've just gained weight.
When one of her friends asked her if she wanted to borrow her sandals for the wedding:
"Well, what size are they?"
"I don't know, like 7 or 7 1/2"
"Oh they would never fit me. My feet are only like a 5 1/2."
At that point I had to go into the other room, give the slow motion 80's clap and congratulate her fiance on finding such an amazingly nice-skinned, big boobed, tiny-footed bride. After all, that's what makes a marriage work, right? Please say yes, or I know far too many brides who are in for a world of hurt and such magical faeries don't deserve that sort of torment! I mean, look at them!! How could they handle such things with their tiny, tiny feet!?!? You people are monsters.
After waking up from a fitful sleep spent dreaming about fittings and sewing (last night it was all new people as opposed to current clients...don't know what that was about)I spent a productive morning thinking about the worst brides I have ever worked with. They typically anger me because aside from being horrible to work with, they hone in on my pet peeves. Having incured my wrath, they get titles rather than names and become an archetype in my own epic saga. I'm like Odysseus, really. Traveling in rough seas just trying to make it home. Or maybe I am all out of it since I took some meds. Really, it could be either.
Anyway, today, I bring you the tale of Entourage Bride. Most people when they come to pick out a dress will bring one or two people. The entourage bride has to bring at least 5. She does the same thing at fittings. No one is allowed to question her taste, but is only there to tell her how skinny/beautiful/tan she is and how excited they are for her. They are also allowed to cry and misuse adjectives when describing dresses (more on that sub-peeve at a later date).
The original Entourage Bride-EB for short- was always at least 20 minutes late to each fitting. She chose a dress that was rather meh, but I'm not the one wearing it, so what do I care. It was one of these dresses that is made out of the 80's super shiny, soft satin. If you ask me, this fabric has it's place...in jammies. Whatever. So since it feels all soft she proceeds to rub her dress during the whole fitting. Aside from looking bad, this gets oils from your skin onto the fabric and can be a bad thing, but what do I know.
EB had about 3 fittings with me and at each one brought 5-6 new people. It was remarkable. They sat and cooed over her and brought their infants (subpeeve!) and gave me dirty looks that there were pins on the floor that their precious little angel might eat. It wasn't until the final pickup meeting that I about went off on her and I never go off on people. I'm professional like that.
You may think from the name that a "pickup meeting" shouldn't take too long. The dress is done and steamed and you throw it on really quickly, say yay, and pay me my money. Hell, I thought that too. Apparently, EB didn't get that memo. She was 30 minutes late and when she arrived she refused to put on the dress until her stepdad got there and he was running a little late. 45 minutes into our 10 minute fitting, everyone is there, she puts on the dress and I am thinking I will be home and eating dinner in a few more minutes. Nope. The fitting went another hour and only ended then because the shop was closed and needed to lock up. She "forgot" that she needed to pay me and when I said I would be keeping the dress until the bill was paid in full, she remembered that her dad had given her a check to pay with. Yes, she not only tried to screw me out of my money, but it wasn't even coming out of her pocket!
The happy thing is the hilarious dialogues that ensued. Transcript time! Add your own super snobby voice for EB and the occasional eye roll.
Upon seeing a bit on makeup on the skirt (I rarely wear a bra when working, let alone any pageant-girl orange makeup):
"Um, why is there makeup on my dress?"
"Well, maybe some got on it when you were putting it on. It's pretty common, but easy to remedy."
"Oh, it couldn't be mine. I don't even wear foundation, I just have naturally good skin."
When I was having difficulty zipping up the dress:
"Oh my gosh, I just started birth control and it's totally made my boobs bigger."
Honey, your boobs are not located around your midsection. You've just gained weight.
When one of her friends asked her if she wanted to borrow her sandals for the wedding:
"Well, what size are they?"
"I don't know, like 7 or 7 1/2"
"Oh they would never fit me. My feet are only like a 5 1/2."
At that point I had to go into the other room, give the slow motion 80's clap and congratulate her fiance on finding such an amazingly nice-skinned, big boobed, tiny-footed bride. After all, that's what makes a marriage work, right? Please say yes, or I know far too many brides who are in for a world of hurt and such magical faeries don't deserve that sort of torment! I mean, look at them!! How could they handle such things with their tiny, tiny feet!?!? You people are monsters.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Gonna cut a bitch
A couple apologies, first of all.
Sorry for the swearing if you're offended by that sort of thing. Personally, I feel all words have a time and a place. If, by the end of this, you feel I still shouldn't use such unladylike terms then perhaps this just isn't the blog for you.
Also sorry for the extremely long delay in posting. Seriously, I have no intention of getting so bogged down again.
Finally, I apologize in advance that today's post is going to be rather short. I will have more excitement in the coming days, including making fun of dresses.
So why am I going to cut something other than fabric (i.e. a bitch)? Oh how happy I am that you asked! Aside from having about 7 dresses to complete in 5 days because brides are idiots resulting in 12-16 hour work days, I also had a death in the family. Since nothing can be without a bride deciding she is the center of the universe, I present you the following tale.
At her second to last fitting, I had known about the death for roughly 2 hours. It wasn't sudden or unexpected, but it was sucky. My husband had been sent home from work and I would much rather have been with him. I was stuck with four fittings including the bride in question. While setting up a pickup time I informed her that I didn't know if the funeral was going to be Monday or Tuesday and could we set it up after I knew. She wasn't really having that since she was flying out and wanted her dress before then. She isn't getting married until July. She informed me that "Funerals don't last all day, so we can do the fitting in the evening, right?"
I should have told her to go to hell and spit on her dress, but I wasn't even prepared for someone to say such a thing, so I just nodded while I tried to find the ctrl-alt-del combo for my brain.
Since I am nice, I crammed her dress in with the other work and stayed up until about 1 a.m. to finish it in time for her. Her final fitting was today and guess what...her plans have changed and she doesn't need it yet, so she'll just swing by and pick it up on Friday or something. Bitch.
Sorry for the swearing if you're offended by that sort of thing. Personally, I feel all words have a time and a place. If, by the end of this, you feel I still shouldn't use such unladylike terms then perhaps this just isn't the blog for you.
Also sorry for the extremely long delay in posting. Seriously, I have no intention of getting so bogged down again.
Finally, I apologize in advance that today's post is going to be rather short. I will have more excitement in the coming days, including making fun of dresses.
So why am I going to cut something other than fabric (i.e. a bitch)? Oh how happy I am that you asked! Aside from having about 7 dresses to complete in 5 days because brides are idiots resulting in 12-16 hour work days, I also had a death in the family. Since nothing can be without a bride deciding she is the center of the universe, I present you the following tale.
At her second to last fitting, I had known about the death for roughly 2 hours. It wasn't sudden or unexpected, but it was sucky. My husband had been sent home from work and I would much rather have been with him. I was stuck with four fittings including the bride in question. While setting up a pickup time I informed her that I didn't know if the funeral was going to be Monday or Tuesday and could we set it up after I knew. She wasn't really having that since she was flying out and wanted her dress before then. She isn't getting married until July. She informed me that "Funerals don't last all day, so we can do the fitting in the evening, right?"
I should have told her to go to hell and spit on her dress, but I wasn't even prepared for someone to say such a thing, so I just nodded while I tried to find the ctrl-alt-del combo for my brain.
Since I am nice, I crammed her dress in with the other work and stayed up until about 1 a.m. to finish it in time for her. Her final fitting was today and guess what...her plans have changed and she doesn't need it yet, so she'll just swing by and pick it up on Friday or something. Bitch.
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