After a humiliating experience at ‘Planet Meringue’ and a charity shopping spree that didn’t quite come up with the goods, our latest b2b Olivia decides to check out the Ebay option in her quest for the perfect dress. Would this new line of enquiry provide the answer?
“I kept putting off making another assault on Planet Meringue but one evening I was trawling through ebay for new bras and I noticed there was a wedding clothing section and started looking through it. Some of the ads were a little difficult to follow, with poor spelling and grammar muddying the waters, although I eventually worked out what the “rushed sleeves with dimonts on” were. The stories behind the dresses also made interesting reading…
One girl was selling her £5,000 Ian Stuart dress because her friend had worn the same dress to her wedding 6 weeks before. This raised wry memories of the summer when two classmates who loathed each other but had invited largely the same set of guests both picked the same wedding venue and colour scheme two weeks apart .
And lo and behold, while I was making fun of the meringues, one sneaked into my brain and turned it to pink Barbie mush . It was pink, it had sparkly bits, it was strapless and the skirt would have made a fine tent for a hippy family , but somehow I had to buy it anyway. I had been absorbed by the bridal hive mind and it would only be a matter of time before I found myself buying the personalised Mr and Mrs matching thong set, co-ordinating my flowers with my balloons and insisting that my bridesmaids wear fuchsia taffeta with lemon accessories.
As soon as I had bought my meringue on ebay, I was convinced I had done the wrong thing and had blown my wedding dress budget on a garish toilet roll dolly confection in fluorescent pink polyester which would crush my boobs into a shapeless mono-bosom that I would have to smuggle out of the house before my fiance saw it and ran away screaming.
By the time I collected an enormous cardboard box from Royal Mail , my morale was at rock bottom . I didn’t want to open the parcel and wondered if I should just take it straight to the nice lady at the hospice shop and make her promise not to open it until I was gone.
Inside the box was more pale pink satin than I had ever seen in my life. I wrestled it out of the box and it actually didn’t look bad at all and even bore a startling resemblance to the ebay description. But did it fit ? I was too nervous to wait until the evening when my friends could come round and help me try on my dress. I had to make the attempt now.
Getting into a strapless dress with four petticoats and a lace up back is not the easiest thing to do on your own. I couldn’t lace up the back, but I held it on with my elbows and stepped back to look in the mirror, tripping over 4 inches of hem and landing heavily on the edge of the underbed drawer. There was a sickening crack and the drawer sheared in half. Miraculously both the dress and I were unhurt but I decided that future attempts to try on the meringue needed to wait.