Totally Not Awkward Ways To Rewear Your Wedding Dress
Hey, it’s not my fault things with Gerald didn’t end up working out. My mother always raised me to believe that men are supposed to provide for their wives. And wives are supposed to provide their nannies, personal chefs, and various housemaids with a list of pertinent duties that need attending to. You better believe I was damn good at it, too. But now Gerald is off “healing the trauma that led to this relationship” or whatever. And I’m stuck with a drop-dead gorgeous $30 million wedding dress I’ll never have a valid reason to wear again. Or will I?
While Picking Up The Dry Cleaning
“Haha, laundry day!” You’ll get a few weird looks, sure. Just ask anyone who questions your choice of attire if they’d rather you pick up your newly cleaned clothes in your birthday suit instead. That’s what I do, and I promise you, it always works. They will respond with a flustered “That’s not what I m—” Which is when you cut in with a defiant “That’s what I thought” before confidently walking away in your ivory, diamond-studded Faisol Abdullah.
To Your Child’s Career Day
I know it’s 2019 and all, but the whole point of feminism is the right to choose. And that means I can choose to sit at home having Horatio massage my feet while Constance mashes berries for the homemade jam if that is what my heart desires. Which it does. I want to make sure the other girls in my darling Brytnee’s class understand that they, too, can become anything they want someday. The other parents can all show up in their military uniforms, scrubs, and business suits if that is what they want to do. Those are all valid life choices, I guess. But I’ll be wearing the dress I wore when I felt like a real-life princess and all my dreams came temporarily true and absolutely K-I-L-L-I-N-G it, thanks.
To The Local Renaissance Fair
Excuse me, but yes, this is a period-appropriate piece, thank you very much. What, did they not have diamonds in ye olde times? I mean, it’s a lace-up bodice and petticoat combo in a princess cut, for crying out loud. If that doesn’t scream Marie Antoinette–adjacent, I don’t know what does. A lot of hardcore reenactors will take issue with this one. But I’ve found it easy to change their tune by flashing rolls of cash around the merchant booths. Drop enough change on fairy glitter and wings to go with your pretty wedding dress, and sooner or later, everyone just kind of shuts the hell up.
On A Blind Date
If I learned anything from the garbage fire that was my marriage to Gerald, it’s that you want to lay all your cards on the table from the beginning. There is no way my next Mr. Right Bank Account will have a hard time understanding my long-term relationship goals.