Oh God, this is an easy one.

My nightmare bridesmaid dress was what I referred to as the So-wrong Ensemble. As my witty pun suggests, it was a sarong. A flimsy, see-through, seafoam green sarong topped off with a white button-up shirt that was designed to tie at the bottom, thus revealing one’s midriff.

Since the couple was getting married on the beach, the outfit was actually pretty and rather fitting. The one thing it did not fit, however, was me. The bride was an actress and most of the other bridesmaids were actresses. Lithe, NYC actresses. I am not nor have I ever been lithe. Curvy would be a nice way of putting it. But however you describe my physique, it was definitely not flattered by this deadly combination of a knotted shirt atop a knotted sarong. The paper-thin sarong stretched across my butt, the buttons on the top stretched across my breasts and, since I was unwilling to tie the shirt properly (ie: reveal my squashy midriff), the top’s knot swung sadly low, bumping against the knot on the sarong.

I’ll never look at beach-wear the same way again.

It helped to have my spouse lie to me all evening, telling me how pretty I looked. ;)

Thanks!

oooh--yes! You DO have a bridesmaid dress story. That counts!

Overall, I've had fairly good luck with bridesmaid's dresses, so I know I will not win this challenge. However, the last wedding I was in was last March. My friend chose a lovely strapless black floor length frock. "Oh, don't worry, it's A-line," she assured all of us, "It will look flattering on ANYONE." Plus, the good news? It was black. Praise Jesus. Had this thing been seafoam green (sorry Megan), I would have probably killed myself, seeing as when I got the dress, and tried it on, it was straighter than a yard stick. No problem, if you're a size 4, but when you have big boobs and curvy hips and a post-baby pooch, not so awesome. I felt like a big stuffed sausage. I couldn't even sit down in it. Thank God it fit though...one of the other girls in the wedding party had to order another one because she couldn't zip it. Q: Hey what's worse than buying a $300 dress you will wear one time? A: Buying two of them.

I actually do have exactly one bridesmaid dress that I not only wore again, but wore multiple times and received compliments on every time I wore it.

It was this dress: http://www.ariadress.com/Desciptions/Desc128KA.htm, in this color (#78, Kiwi Stripe with #7 Lemongrass for the sash and contrasting bands): http://www.ariadress.com/ShantungSwatches.htm

So thank you once again, fish_no_pond!

sadly, i don't have any bad bridesmaid dress stories, mine have always been lovely. i do, however, have a good homecoming gown story: a horrific strapless pre-worn fuchsia number that i had to keep pulling up all night less my partner catch wind of, well, you get the idea...

does that count??

kisses to CC from BB!

I went to a very chic ceremony in Newport Beach. Gorgeous day...sparkling diamonds dancing on the water, brilliant blue skies and bright sunshine overhead. The bridesmaids wore cream-colored cocktail dresses, each one individually selected by the wearer. But one innocent (?) young girl forgot her slip. Such a scene-stealer, she: Her long legs(and patterned-pink thong underwear) were backlit by the bright afternoon sun.

Yikes.

Edited at 2008-07-14 10:03 pm (UTC)

I feel I need to answer this, because I've been holding it in for so long, waiting for opportunity to speak about the time when I was 16 and subjected to the dress from hell.

It was teal green, satin, with ugly blue lace in the bodice. The skirt itself went out like a big balloon in back, Scarlett O'Hara on crack. The shoulders were so puffy that they almost went higher than my head. I was the tallest in the wedding party, and they had this great idea that everyone's dress should be at the same level in front, which would look fab in pics, or so they said-- I didn't get it. The hemline was supposed to go up slightly in the front and then down to the ankles in the back, but mine ended up going to mid-thigh in front, so that most of my legs showed. Not only that, she made us put one side of our hair up in a ugly green flower monstrosity that ended up looking like a tumor.

Thank you, I feel so much better after sharing.

Aw, thanks for the sympathy! You're right, it was a cousin. She ended up going through a really difficult divorce from the guy a few years later... maybe karma for her bridesmaid dress choice?

(from a debut2009 watcher)

though i've only been a bridesmaid once so far, i'm sure multiple times are in my future. i'm the kind of girl grandmothers look at and sigh, saying "always a bridesmaid, never a bride." in fact, i already have a maid of honor position slotted for next summer, and another that may be next summer as well. being only 22, my friends are mostly too young to be getting married quite yet, and i am notoriously unattached. still, being a bridesmaid makes me happy, no matter what my brother might tell you about the time i was a bridesmaid in his wedding.

the dress itself was not horrible at all. it was a cranberry a-line with faux buttons and a slight train in the back. on the other bridesmaids, it was stunning, as well as reasonably cheap. it was, if i remember correctly, only slightly more than $100. unfortunately, i had an awkward body shape that did not suit the dress well. the biggest problem of all was my boobs. before my breast reduction last summer, i was a 34h. being measured for my dress was possibly one of the most mortifying moments of my life, as i measured to fit a dress size 16/12/4. aside from my formerly enormous boobs, i also had (and still have) abnormally tiny hips. i was forced to order a 16 to ensure the dress would zip all the way. the dress was strapless, and my search for a strapless bra was fruitless. stores don't even make regular bras in 34h (i always had to special order 36gs instead), much less the strapless variety. i had to settle for one at least 4 sizes too small and--as they say on project runway--make it work. then, of course, came the alterations. bridesmaid dresses are traditionally made for really tall women, and though i am not short, neither am i particularly tall. the dress had to be shortened by about five inches. also, it had to be taken out. in the bust and the stomach, because i had the unfortunately timed job of working in food service at the time, which did not do a lot for my waistline. also, the seamstress had to add flares at the hips, in order to give the illusion that i had any. in the end, the dress sat about two inches lower on my chest than everyone else's (showing a lot of cleavage i was not comfortable with. after i wore a sweater in seventh grade that, while not revealing by any means, showed clearly that i was already a b cup, i was labeled as a seventh grade slut. after that, i'd taken to wearing oversized t-shirts to hide my body altogether), and those flares didn't really work. the dress still betrayed my lack of hips and hung straight down. in all, the dress may have been $105, but the alterations cost $90 (no joke), and my humiliation at the cleavage and my round tummy were priceless. both my brother and sister-in-law thanked me profusely, but i'll never forget the body mortification i suffered at the hands of one of the least offensive bridesmaid dresses ever.

oh, and the icing on the cake? i was the palest girl in the wedding party by a long shot.

(i know this was long. sorry! but i always relish the opportunity to tell this story. i think it's very telling about who i am as a person, at least when it comes to my insecurities about my appearance. you can probably see why i'm excited for your book. i'm pretty sure it will be perfect for me!)

Both times I was a bridesmaid the dresses were simple and elegant, reasonably priced and worn again. and according to my babe-o-rama bridesmaid the dress I chose was the same. Thank god for sensible friends and no cousins close to me in age.

I was 12.

I was my sister's bridesmaid.

It was peach.

Much like the Monstrosity.

It was the summer of 1992.

The sleeves were so puffed they were like wings.

The taffeta was bunched around the waist so it looked like there were bustles on each side.

There was a little peach rose on my chest.

It was off-the-shoulder.

Wince.

At 12, I was chosen to be a junior bridesmaid for a family friend. Because I was too old to be a flower girl, which I had been on many occasions, and too young to be considered a "real" bridesmaid, they tagged on the "junior" title to my name--really, just so that I could be paired with the bride's younger brother. You would think that the bride would have had the good sense to allow for some flexibility in my dress since I was so much younger than her other bridesmaids, but she apparently missed that little detail.

Being a frightfully skinny, undeveloped girl at 12, I was forced to fit into women's sizes--and as you may well know, bridesmaids' dresses don't go much smaller than size 4. I, however, was still wearing children's clothes, with a 24 inch waist and flat, flat chest. Skinny arms, skinny legs, all skin and bones and swimming in fabric. They actually had me try on the size 4 for the fitting, as if they could actually alter this dress. And the dress! Purple satin--not the deep majestic purples that are fashionable today, but primary-looking (as primary as purple can look), flat, boring purple. Long sleeves, form fit and cut under the chest with a floor length A-line skirt. An attempt to give this shapeless girl a figure, I suppose? As difficult as it was to actually accept being a junior bridesmaid, the worst part was the outcome of the dress fitting. Because the dress was so unbelievably large for me, I had hoped that the bride would suggest a different design in the same fabric, but instead, we got it altered. Altered to the point that a vertical seam was inserted straight down the middle of my chest! As if it wasn't already painfully obvious that I had yet to sprout my womanly curves, here was this unapologetic seam drawing attention to my little girl chest. In hindsight, it's almost laughable, but at the tender age of 12, those pre-pubescent years, I was absolutely mortified. Couldn't they seam up the sides? Or the back? Why down the middle of the chest?! I was not a happy girl!

Phew, it felt good to share. :)

About the closest I can come to here was the experience I had in finding bridesmaid dresses for my own wedding. I had a designer, style, and color all picked out, and when I went to the place in town that carried that designer, it had gone out of business! They only had two or three left in that color, and none in the sizes that my two bridesmaids wore.

After a few suggestions, lots of browsing, and a few nervous tears, I finally found a website that specialized in prom dresses. There, I found a nice, simple dress style in the clearance section that came in an even nicer color than the other dresses I'd wanted. Even better, they were in clearance, since it was past prom season!

Well, not really a horror story, but we did have panic and a happy ending!

The set-up: I was in seventh grade.
My stepfather had just died. It was my brother's wedding.
I was totally in love with Tim, my much older (22) step-cousin. He had nice hair.

The dress:
Was two sizes too big. I lost a lot of weight because my dad died.
Was this Pepto-Bismol pink
Required a hoop skirt.
Had fake flowers for shoulder straps.
Was tiered like a wedding cake.

What happened:
Right before the wedding, at the house of the parents of the bride, I put on my horrible gown. It sagged everywhere, including where my breasts were (still are, actually. My breasts have not. I repeat: HAVE NOT moved) and the maid of honor was trying to duct tape the side in. It didn't really work and the tape was scratching. Then when we were heading out to the car I picked up their dog, Midge. It turns out you are not supposed to pick up Midge. Why?

Midge pees.

Midge peed all over the dress. There was this dark stain, going down.

Cue: Mother of the bride swearing.
Cue: Maid of Honor yelling, "YOU PICKED UP MIDGE! JESUS! JESUS!"

The rushed me inside, dabbed at me with a face cloth and then dried me with a hair dryer.

Me: I smell like pee.
Bride: YOU. SMELL. FINE.
Father of the Pride: She smells like piss.

Cue: Maid of Honor spraying lilac perfume all over me.

So, I went to the wedding smelling like lilac and pee. My super cute cousin asks me to dance. I am in Heaven. He leans in. I am in super Heaven. I am ready to die of bliss.

He says, "Does it smell like urine?"

I can't wait to read MODELS, although perhaps it will send me back to the horror of seventh grade. Nah. I still can't wait to read it.

I probably should.

Maybe it won't qualify as the "worst" and in the end, the dress looked good on me - but staying the "right size" for the dress was an experience.

One of my friends got married about 18 months after my daughter was born. Which means that I had to buy the dress around her first birthday. I'd lost some of the baby weight- but not all of it. So, in the end, the dress was purchased two sizes too big- and it cost $300+ to have it "rebuilt" from the bust line down. (Don't use my name- if my husband ever found out he'd KILL me! Perhaps you remember how cheap he is!)

From the bust line up- well that was an entirely different story. In order to fill out the dress, I had to BEG my daughter to keep nursing for about six months longer than she had wanted to. Fortunately, I was able to convince her to continue with her "bedtime" feedings - which made it possible to fill out the top portion of the dress (and probably saving me an additional $200 in alterations).

That's hysterical! Forced nursing to maintain a bust size!