“wow, your life went from hell to bliss in 48 hours!” ~ my sister, and moh.
So, as you might remember, I ordered the gorgeous amazing Wai-Ching Yowying gown. After scouring the internet and seeing nothing but amazing incredible “i love this woman” reviews, I felt extremely confident that the only chance I would be taking is having to send it back for alterations. Here’s a pic of the beauty that was to be mine:
gorgeous. i love the band around the top, slightly deconstructed, and the stitching – ohh the stitching. The overall romance in the details make this dress. SO excited to have this piece of amazing art in my hands.
And then I got it.
Or rather, my doorstep got it, since it was sent scrunched up in a little box, uninsured and with no signature to my doorstep, where people tend to steal packages. It’s cool, it’s not like it’s a $700 dress or anything. My initial rage disappeared pretty quickly as I started tearing the tape off the box. And then it grew back again. I tried my very best to hold back judgement until I put it on – it might look different on…
and thats when the tears started. I looked at myself in the mirror, and bawled. and not in the “oh my god, i found my dress” sort of tears. more like just the “oh my god” tears. N sheepishly knocked on the door and all I could muster was “No!”
I ripped the dress off, ran out into the living room, grabbed my phone, and promptly locked myself in the bedroom again, still hysterical. In hindsight, I have the most understanding and amazing fiance ever, in that as soon as he saw I wasn’t bleeding profusely, he left me to my bedroom to wallow in this disaster. I know all he wanted to do was help. But I still didn’t want him to see the dress, I was still so shocked and confused. So, I did what any bride would do. I called my bridesmaid, and cried.
The dress looked like a knockoff you’d get for $39.99 at Target. Only the Target version would have probably had better quality of crafstmanship.
The boning in the chest was different sizes – making my boobs lopsided, the stitching that was there was totally juvenile and minimal, the fabric was marked with red and black who knows what, the zipper was coming out. The entire back of the dress had a pucker in it, which was sewn in. There was no puddle train – in fact the front of the dress had more material than the back, making it look like i had it on backwards. The seams – the seams were crooked. One kick pleat hit me on the front of my shin, while the other one was around the side of my leg towards my achilles. The band around the top of the dress that is so prominent and amazing in the photos – was nothing more than a strip of badly sewn transparent material – trim. It was a disaster.
Part 2 coming soon.