#58 - Being the fat bridesmaid

Thanks Fat Bridesmaid, you totally reminded me of yet another reason I hate being fat - being the fat bridesmaid. Two years ago I was a bridesmaid in my great friend Kat E's wedding. It was a picture perfect wedding set in the woods on a brisk fall afternoon. All of the bridesmaids were dressed in beautiful sable colored satin gowns with chartreuse shoulder wraps (yes, that's brown and green). The dresses were absolutely beautiful, especially set against the woodland flora. I should have felt like a fairy princess with my up-do and satin pumps, but instead I felt like a fat frumpy mess. Yes folks, I was the fat bridesmaid. I think fat people desperately try to blend into the background to prevent people from seeing and then ridiculing the fatness But as a bridesmaid you have to be front and center with the wedding party, hundreds of people watching you, the center of attention (well, slightly to the side center of attention - I wasn't the bride after all). Not only was I contending with the old adage "always a bridesmaid, never a bride", I was also dealing with the sting of being the fat bridesmaid. To top it off the bride's thin little sister was also a bridesmaid. Damn! I would have to stand next to a skinny mini, making my fat even more pronounced. This wasn't even the worst of it.

My dress became the bane of my existence before the wedding. When I ordered my dress eight months before the big day I was at my lowest weight in sometime (I had recently lost 75 pounds). Then I got very ill (I got meningitis), and was bed-ridden for a couple months. One crappy side effect of my recovery was rapid weight gain. I put on fifty, yes fifty, pounds before the wedding. Luckily one the bridesmaids ordered a dress that was WAY too big for her, so we swapped dresses. When the swapped dress arrived in the mail I tried it on and it fit great...but that was a couple months before the wedding...and I was still gaining weight. I was trying desperately hard to lose weight, but my efforts were in vain as I was still trying to recover from meningitis. I tried the dress on again...a little tighter...again...even tighter. Then I stopped trying on the dress. I don't know what I thought would happen. Would the wedding fairy come down and grant me a tiny butt for the wedding day until midnight when it would suddenly burst into it's original bulbous pumpkin shape? I guess I was in denial. The wedding day was approaching. I stared at the dress, an ever present reminder of my failing diet attempts. Then a week before the wedding I tried on the dress again. It didn't fit...at all. It wasn't an issue of too tight, it was an issue of I couldn't even attempt zipping it up all the way. Oh shit! What now? It was clearly too late to get a new dress. Would a body shaper help? I looked high and low for corsets and other waist cinching devices, but even these wouldn't do the trick. The dress was just too small. It was too late to go to a tailor (the wedding was days away). Besides, just letting out the seams wasn't going to help. I needed more material to fill the chasm between the zipper. Thank God my mom is a great seamstress. I come from a long line of seamstresses. My grandma and my great-grandma were professional seamstresses. I was praying for a miracle. Could my mom save the day? We scoured fabric stores searching for chocolate colored satin to match the dress. This fabric was too shiny, this was the wrong brown, this satin was too dull. Argh! But FINALLY we found a relatively good match. My mom spent the next couple nights sewing in extra panels into the back seam to accommodate my expanding waist. I slipped on the altered dress. Zzziiippp. It zipped up with no trouble. Thank God. The dress fit! The alterations were barely noticeable, at least you didn't notice them unless you were told it was altered. I was still worried people would notice, but I was VERY thankful that we had wraps to cover our shoulders. The wrap completely covered up the alterations! It was traumatic, but everything turned out OK.

I was feeling great and confident...until I left the hotel room. Then my mind started racing. I realized I was the fat bridesmaid. Would I be the fattest person there? What would the guests think of me? Would Kat E have even asked me to be a bridesmaid if she knew I would have gotten so fat? Was I going to ruin her wedding pictures? Then I was walking down the aisle thinking, "Don't fall down, don't trip, don't be known as the fat bridesmaid that fell on her ass." It was torture. Of course, it was all self torture. I'm sure everyone was focused on the happy couple and the beautiful surroundings. At the reception I had to make a formal entrance with the wedding party. More Torture. Ah, don't look at me, I'm the fat bridesmaid! We even had to do the obligatory wedding party dance. That was OK, but my escort wasn't the best dancer. What was he thinking? "Oh damn, I have to dance with the fat one." The rest of the day went off without a hitch. It was a beautiful wedding, it was a great party, and I had a wonderful time. In fact, I think I ended up looking a bit like the heavy Anna Nicole Smith with my big jugs cresting over the top of my gown. I really psyched myself out about being the fat bridesmaid. In the end, it wasn't a big deal. It was only a big deal in my head. But I must say, if I'm ever asked to be in another wedding I WILL lose weight, because I refuse to be the fat bridesmaid again!


Kat E - I thank you SO much for including me in your wedding! I don't regret a moment of that day. I really did have fun in the end despite my chubby predicament. I was just so worried about marring your wedding and your pictures. I know you love me for who I am, not how I look. But you know how our crazy brains work. Maybe someday when I get down to my goal weight, we should pull out our dresses and get some more pictures taken. Just a thought. :)