(no subject)
I just spent a very delightful couple of hours in Knightsbridge, helping Olivia squeeze her perfectly nimble and toned body into a wedding dress which seemed designed to be precisely half an inch smaller than said nimble body. The dress fitter then declared the process insufficiently tortuous and decided to take it in just a little bit more.
I had no idea women's clothing was so complicated. It is easier to rope together the rigging of a ship than to work your way through all of the hoops and loops, hooks and buttons required to lash the dress to Olivia's frame. I had to take notes on my iPhone to remember the correct order too, plus I penned an entire appendix on the subject of those 'optional hooks and hoops' which enable Olivia to adapt the dress - Transformer-like - into something more suited to drinking and dancing.
Dressing also required a lot of squeezing and pushing on Olivia's part, and she had to keep her rib cage compressed with her arms while we did up a zip. When the fitter asked Olivia whether she'd like to sit down, the poor girl could only respond, "Well I suppose I could give it a go."
The shop was also reluctant to let me in at first, with the receptionist exclaiming "I think you're looking for next-door! It's men next-door!"
Madam, I'm a bridesman and there is simply no shame about the fact.
Postscript for female readers: It's a lovely dress.
I had no idea women's clothing was so complicated. It is easier to rope together the rigging of a ship than to work your way through all of the hoops and loops, hooks and buttons required to lash the dress to Olivia's frame. I had to take notes on my iPhone to remember the correct order too, plus I penned an entire appendix on the subject of those 'optional hooks and hoops' which enable Olivia to adapt the dress - Transformer-like - into something more suited to drinking and dancing.
Dressing also required a lot of squeezing and pushing on Olivia's part, and she had to keep her rib cage compressed with her arms while we did up a zip. When the fitter asked Olivia whether she'd like to sit down, the poor girl could only respond, "Well I suppose I could give it a go."
The shop was also reluctant to let me in at first, with the receptionist exclaiming "I think you're looking for next-door! It's men next-door!"
Madam, I'm a bridesman and there is simply no shame about the fact.
Postscript for female readers: It's a lovely dress.