I swear it's a giant conspiracy.
It's me against my sister, and she's winning.
When Michelle asked me to be a bridesmaid for her wedding in May, I instantly accepted. Of course I did. I mean, she's my sister and there will never be another person with DNA so closely resembling mine.
I expected that she would pick out a bridesmaid dress from a store or a catalog. I would go to the store, try on a couple of sizes with nice single digit numbers, and that would be that. When she showed me a picture of the dress she had chosen my first thought was :
"Wow. It's pink".
The initial panic over the color was quickly eclipsed by her next comment.
"I'm having them specially made, so I'll need your measurements".
If this were a movie, there would be a close up on my face with a look of shock and horror on my face. You see, getting my measurements taken means that I have to have some other person wrap their arms around me with a tape measure and tell me exactly how many inches around I am... in large numbers.
But, as previously stated, she's my sister and I do love her. So I went and got measured.
It starts off kind of easy. First they go for your bust, which is a happy number because if it's a big number it's actually a good thing.
"34 Inches", says the friend of my friend who is doing me this embarrassing favor.
Next we move on to the waist. Now, I'm not too worried about this because I've always had a little waist, and I'm sure that my previous state of 24 Inches hasn't increased too much.
"27 3/4 Inches", she says, being kind by not rounding up.
Wow. I've gained four inches around my waist. Okay, thats not such a huge deal. I can sort of handle that. Of course I'm going to get bigger as I get older. I breathe through it.
Now the hips. It's a deceptive title. What she's really doing is measuring my ass. Measuring all the way around my ass and my hips. See, with hips, you can write them off as child bearing. With an ass though, well, that's really just something to do with the pint of Bailey's Haagen Daz you may or may not have eaten in two sittings this week.
And with your butt, no amount of breathing in will save you.
She wraps her arms around me. I pray she doesn't go for a bigger tape measure.
"40 Inches. Let me just double check that. Yes, 40. All done!"
She sounds almost like I should be happy that she's finished but all I can think about is the fact that my ass is 40 Inches of giant jiggly madness, and that the bridesmaid's dress my sister picked is going to be the most unflattering garment I ever wear.
Now that my proportions are completely messed up, how will I ever shop again? I mean look at it this way:
I have a size 4 or X-Small Bust. (Thanks for the insult on that one).
I have a size 6-8 or Small Waist. (This I can still handle)
I have a size 10 or Medium "Hips". (Double digits, you found me you evil bastards)
How on earth is anyone supposed to deal with that? I mean, come on!
One thing I will say, though is that I have three months before the wedding and today I am going out to use the last of my cash to buy myself some exercise shoes. I don't want to be "skinny", nor do I plan on starving myself to stick thin insanity I just want all the parts to match!
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