So. You’ve all been following along on my “lose weight to fit into my bridesmaid’s dress for Lindsay’s wedding” project.
You’ve been clapping at the appropriate times, telling me how good I’m doing, cheering me on, and enthusiastically encouraging me with the odd “You can do it girl!”
I love you guys for that.
But this shit just got serious, folks.
Are you ready for this?
My brother is getting married. On February 11th, 2012. (That’s approximately 3 months before Lindsay’s wedding, for those of you keeping track.)
And his fiancée and my friend, Amanda, has asked me to be a bridesmaid.
Sure! Count me in! Whoop!! Super excited!!!!
So we go dress shopping last night, and find the perfect dress, and the sweet little shop owner starts measuring us, and BAM!
It’s Bridesmaid Dress Horror: The Sequel.
These dresses we were ordering were by a different designer than the ones we got for Lindsay’s, and from a different store.
And the sizing was different.
This is where I feel the need to really come clean and start telling you some numbers. Embarrassing as that may be, I’m not sure you can understand my story without me telling you the sizes that I’ve been told I am and the sizes I need to fit into in time for these weddings.
Please don’t point and laugh, okay?
When I was measured on August 22nd for Lindsay’s bridesmaid’s dress, they measured me between a size 20 and 22. 22 was considered plus sized and more expensive. I opted for the size 20 and vowed to lose weight. As you may recall, the sales lady was skeptical, but I assured her I could do it.
Fast-forward a little over two months later. I’m down 19 pounds, but still want to lose a lot more.
And then I go with Amanda and her twin sister Steph to shop for her bridesmaid dresses, and that sales lady measures me between an 18W and 20W. BUT, those numbers are considered plus sized and costs extra, so somehow I agree to order a 16.
Size 16. With no “W”.
A size that I have not fit into for years and years in normal clothes, let alone bridal gear that always seems to be sized way smaller than normal clothes.
WHAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE?!?!??!?!?!
So. Um. Yeah. You know how I’ve joked about only eating sticks and dirt and berries for the past two months?
Now I think I might actually have to do that.
There can be no more cheating. There can be no more nights of going home and deciding, “Meh, I don’t feel like exercising tonight.”
I’m not even sure there can be a Christmas this year.
The good news? If I’m actually successful at this and I lose enough weight to fit in this dress, then the one I ordered for Lindsay’s wedding should be so ginormously big on me that they have enough material to make me two dresses.
Also, the lady at the store last night promised me this dress can be let out to fit a size 18. (Shut up, I know the alteration costs will negate the extra charge for a plus sized dress. I’m trying to ignore that part.)
But the ultimate goal is to not need any alterations. The ultimate goal is to fit into that godforsaken Size 16.
I have three and a half months.
Here we go. I have no choice.
God, I hope I can do this.