A Dress, a Wink, and a Prayer

I made a classic girl error. Let me rephrase that. I made the classic girl error of anyone who has ever needed to lose some weight. You make an unreasonable goal. For example, you decide that you're going to lose 50lbs in 2 months, or that you'll get back to the size you were in high school for your 20 year reunion. You know, that sort of thing. Which brings us back to me. When I decided to try and lose weight, I set an unreasonable goal for myself. To fit into a bridesmaids dress for my sister's wedding (in June) which was two sizes smaller than what fit when I ordered it (February). Stupid. A word to the wise....don't ever do this. It's easy to have a dress taken in or wear a dress that's a little big for you. The other way around, i.e. having a dress that's too small, is bad. Very bad. I've done this not just once, but twice. I bought a slightly smaller size than what fit for my friend Maryann's wedding and I just barely squeezed in it, and I swore I would never do it again. Even I don't listen to myself.

If I was going to be completely honest I would confess that I actually originally bought a dress that was 3 sizes smaller than what fit in February. Not just stupid. Really stupid.
Ultimately, when the dress came in in April, I took one look at it and knew that there was no way I was going to make it into that dress by June. A fitting confirmed my worst fears. My husband calmed my hyperventilating panic by telling me to order a bigger dress, and so I did. We back to the dress that was 2 sizes smaller. Now, this dress zipped, but just barely, right before I began a whirlwind of traveling before the wedding. This was a little disconcerting because we all know that it is nearly impossible to stay on and diet and exercise plan when you're traveling about to an fro. But I thought, surely if I just maintain or lose a little more, everything will be fine.

In the month before the wedding, I flew to Dallas for a bridal shower, back to California for another wedding, and the back to Dallas to get ready for the wedding. By the time that it came to the week of the wedding, I had managed to lose a couple more pounds which made me feel secure in the fact that it would fit. Until I tried it on....and the zipper opened from the bottom. I got the zipper back down, but I failed to realize that there was a flaw in the zipper and that it was never going be able to bear the pressure of a snug dress. Mistake. Then, on Friday night, the night before the Saturday of the wedding, I tried on the dress and the zipper refused to stay zipped. When Justin tried to move zip it down, the zipper ripped off one side. At that point, I began to gag and hyperventilate at the same time, which is not a good combination. At this point, things got wild. I was panicking, Dad was incredulous, and Justin was coming up with hair-brained plots to fix the dress. The plans ranged from sewing hooks and eyes up the zipper line, sewing me in it, duct tape, and safety pins. None of these things engendered much confidence.

Then, Dad called our family friend, Sherry, and after a short conversation it was decided that we should head down to Waxahachie and let her see what she could do. So at 10PM, Dad and I got in the car and headed down there. When we arrived, Sherry was there along with her next door neighbor who just happened to be, miracle upon miracles, a seamstress. (Cue angels singing from Heaven) I turned over the offending garment and they set to work. After about 30-45 minutes of fiddling with the zipper, they determined that they were not going to be able to fix it. It was decided that Dad and I would drive to Walmart (Thank God for 24 hour Walmarts!) and buy another zipper whilst Sherry and her neighbor ripped out the old one. Dad and I did what we were told and we bought a normal zipper as well as a heavy duty metal zipper, like the ones you find in ski jackets and such. When we returned, the ladies decided to put the industrial zipper in the dress, and the time was nearing midnight. We headed over to the neighbor's house and she spent the next hour replacing the zipper. When she was done, it was time for me to try on the dress again. Problematically, as the new zipper was put in , it appeared to take up and extra 1/4 - 1/2" of fabric. Fabric that I didn't have to lose in an already snug dress. It took two people holding the dress closed and a third person to zip it up. It was bad. I couldn't breathe. I could barely move. It was really bad. I could tell by assessing the looks the others were exchanging that they knew it was bad too.

We decided that I should probably have a plan B.

The next morning I told Marla what had happened the night before, mostly to explain why Dad was so late in getting up. She did not take the news terribly well. It was decided that I would just try and make it through the ceremony in the dress, and have another dress to change into for the reception. During pictures before the ceremony, I would simply safety pin the dress so as not to test the zipper. As I showered that morning and put on my underwear, I thought to myself, "Is this the underwear I want to be wearing before God and the Arboretum if this dress explodes off of me?"

As it turns out, the miraculous took place. After the pictures were taken, Justin zipped me up in the dress by himself, and the darn thing didn't explode. Not during the ceremony or the reception or lunch or cutting a rug. I remember at one point when I was cutting a rug with my cousins and I caught a vision of Sherry on the edge of the dance floor shaking her head in what I can only imagine was shock/awe at the miracle that the dress was still in one piece.

Most importantly, Marla was beautiful, they got married, and the wedding was lovely. That's all that matters. But I'll never forget what was most certainly the most amazing miracle at a wedding that has occurred since Jesus himself turned water into wine in Cana.