The Tale of the Dress

Yes, my previous wedding post(s) left out some details.

Details I saved to give it the attention it deserved.

About my dress.

This dress.

It's a convertible dress from Victoria's Secret.

And I love it.

At least in the picture, I do.

And I loved it on me, too.

But I didn't love the work that it requires to keep it on me!!

It's basically a tube dress with two super-long sashes sewn to the top that you can wrap, twist, or style into a variety of ways.

Maybe it would have been less complicated if I'd actually taken the time to make sure it was on me securely and appropriately from the get-go. But I didn't have that time.

So I threw it on, wrapped it around into a cute little one-shoulder style and headed off to take pictures.

And during the picture taking it came loose.

And then when we got in the car, it came loose again.

And during the ceremony it was attempting to come loose.

So after the ceremony I headed to the bathroom and took Lindsey with me to assist.

So in we go.

And I unwrap the dress and am trying to figure out which sash should have gone first, because clearly I didn't have the right one done the last time I did it.

So Lindsey is holding my hair for me when she says "What's dripping on my foot?"

"Huh?" I ask her.

"Something's dripping on my foot," she holds up the end of one of the sashes...which is wet, "I think your sash got in the toilet...."

I looked in silence at the obviously wet and obviously dripping sash before breaking into a laugh along with Lindsey.

So we go to grabbing paper towels and dry off the sash as best as we can because clearly stripping out of the dress and walking around in my skivvies isn't an option at this point.

After drying it as well as I could, I went back to wrapping and tucking the dress and hoping it'd stay.
And of course, after messing with a dress in toilet water we both felt the need to wash our hands.

Wait, what's that you say?

No soap?


We walked out of the bathroom to find Mack and Jason waiting on us with curious looks.

Was it the length of the time we spent together in the single-occupant bathroom or the volume of laughter that came from it during that time?

So we had to tell the story. And they laughed and we laughed.

And we went to our cars.

And the dress came undone again.

And again.

And again.

And that's just between the cathedral and the reception site.

So I'm driving down the road while fixing my dress and I realize that the truck behind me that was riding my butt has decided to keep a much greater distance between me and him after all the gas-brake-gas-brake action my car was getting.

Hehehe. And they say smart men are far and few between....

{No women driver jokes here, pleasekthanks}

We get to the reception and....again...I have to secure the straps of my dress at least well enough to get inside and to the bathroom where I unwrap the whole blasted thing and start all over.

I believe it was at this time that I abandoned the one-shoulder effect and just settled on it crossed over in front and back.

Which worked for a while.

Until I sat down.

So I went and fixed it again.

And went out to the dance-floor to take some pictures.

And felt something brushing the back of my legs and realized that both sashes had come undone again.

So back to the bathroom.

I bet some folks thought I had some serious issues going on if anyone not in the know ever clued in to how many trips I was making to the bathroom.

So, at some point, I went back to the one-shoulder effect and all but put a ratchet on those straps so that they had no choice but to stay in place.

I just had to sacrifice all ability to breathe for the duration of the rest of the reception.
The one and only time that I went to the bathroom for normal bathroom stuff...well, wouldn you know it couldn't be disaster-free! I do my thing and after washing my hands, I lean forward in the mirror to check my teeth. And as soon as I lean forward against the counter I feel this cold, wet feeling spreading across the front of my thighs and know.

The counter was soaking wet.

And so was the front of my dress.

Right at the crotch.


So I hiked it up a little bit, using the ruching in my favor to cover the wet-stain on my dress long enough to walk back to the table and put on my coat. Which was long enough to cover the wet spot and warm enough to make for the sudden chill I was feeling in my nether-regions.

So, there's my story.
A great dress that created a great mess!
Maybe it's no coincidence I forgot it in Louisiana!


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About The Author
Ashley Wife & Mom

Ashley is a thirty-something wife and mother of two boys. She enjoys spending time with her family, as well as reading and decorating their home. Her blogging adventures began in 2006 as a single mother and have carried on through marriage and a new life with a husband, a teenager, and a pre-schooler.