I’m truly honored to be part of Shotgun’s upcoming wedding. I’m always honored to be a part of any wedding–regardless of all the other stuff that gets wrapped up in planning The Big Day, choosing who will stand by you during one of your life’s greatest moments is never easy.

(That’s what I wish would guide guest lists, actually–not “whom do we have to invite?” but “without whom would this moment be incomplete?” Anyway.)

Shotgun picked a lovely dress for us, and a reasonably priced one (particularly given that it’s silk). It’s a color I don’t generally wear, but it’s just so pretty! I’m long past the point of caring much about what a bride asks me to wear–she could ask me to wear a D&G stamped trash sack cinched with a macrame belt, and I’d do it AND smile for all the pictures. The more weddings you’re in–particularly if one of them is your own–the more likely you are to just see your friend’s smiling face instead of the color and cut of the gown you’re asked to wear.

Because that’s how this works.

To be fair, though, the dress is really, really pretty.

She also found shoes that I should hate because they’re gold and they’re strappy, and you will find neither of those things in my wardrobe, generally. But they’re adorable! And interesting! And comfortable! And they won’t make me taller than my date. These were also reasonably priced and came in wide-width for my weirdo, mismatched feetsies.

On top of all of this, I can state unequivocally that Shotgun, as a bride, has been a piece of freaking cake. In spite of her fair share of wedding planning stress (more, one might say, than her fair share), she has never once gone bridezilla on us. Not once. And the wedding is less than three weeks away.

(I’m not just being nice because I know her mom reads this sometimes (Hi!). I think Shotgun will back me up when I say I’m never “just being nice” with her.)

So it galls me to support traditional Wedding Industrial Complex nonsense when my dear friend has done such a remarkably good job of caring for her attendants. If your dress is over a certain size (and that size is one lower than the national average for women), you pay extra. The galling bit is that you then have to pay to have it altered, even though they took your measurements before making the gown.

Pay to add fabric, then pay to have it taken away?

This is also how it works.

It’s not the amount of money–it’s the principle. I may also just be jarred by the general rudeness in this particular bridal shop (that’s how they roll, though–they’re known for it). My friend is classy and well-mannered and they ARE NOT.

A-holes.