I love going to weddings in the summer. I’m a total heat freak– the hotter the better. So naturally drinking, dancing, and partying outdoors makes me smile. Not to mention, shopping for cute summer dresses? I’m in heaven. Oh, and of course you get to celebrate a friend’s sacred special union…. but did I mention dancing outside?!
As it happens, I always manage to have a wardrobe malfunction/shit show at my beloved summer weddings. Through no fault of my own (nor the fault of alcohol), something with my outfit always ends up ruined or just thoroughly embarrassing.
My streak of bad luck started when I was a teenager at a cousin’s wedding. It was early in my stages of puberty, and I hadn’t filled out the way I had hoped yet. No matter how many times my mother told me that the tiny (like miniscule) look was in, I refused to believe it. Instead, I purchased myself a fabulous water bra. Yay boobies! My newly acquired feminineness unfortunately came with much-needed straps but I was hoping to rock a strapless dress to the reception. My brilliant idea was to safety pin the bra to my dress. What I didn’t realize right away was that the water bra was much heavier than the material of my dress… I spent the night hoisting up my falsies as they continued to drift south.
Destination weddings are tricky. You’re on a beach so you’re hoping to tan….but you’re on a beach so you don’t want to be fish-belly white. Cue me, in my hotel room, hours before the ceremony, spreading self tanner on my iridescent legs hoping to look like I haven’t lived in a crypt. The rest of my night was spent pretending the streaks of golden shimmer hadn’t stained the white dress we’d all been asked to wear (and secretly hoping I could disappear into the waves).
Fast forward a few years and I was travelling to Nova Scotia for a gorgeous sea-side reception. Not sure how the weather was going to hold up, I bought a number of dresses that would be slinky enough for searing heat or thick enough for a nip in the air. The only constant was a pair of Louboutins that I got on incredible sale at The Room. The big day turned out to be a monsoon, so I dressed accordingly. What I didn’t realize was that the tent to cover our heads would do nothing to stop the rain water. Our feet sunk into muddy grass water for the entirety of the party. It took a few hours and a toothbrush, but my shoes are clean once more.
Just a few weeks ago, I attended a wedding and, for the first time in a while, decided to wear a floor-length dress. The skirt of this dress was tulip style with two pieces of fabric that met up mid-thigh (just an FYI, this style is perfect for giving great Angelina leg!). At one point after dinner, I felt moved to get up and go shake it on the dance floor and started to navigate through the sea of chairs. While squeezing through two that were very close together, one panel of my skirt got caught. It wasn’t until I felt a breeze on a bare ass cheek that I realized everyone was getting a great view of the rose tattoo on the very upper corner of my thigh.
At the same wedding, towards the end of my night, I had a chance to speak to the bride and tell her what a fabulous dress she was wearing. Since I was only there as someone’s +1, she said to me “You’re Bianca, right?” I nodded and was sure she was going to compliment my dress/tattoo. Instead she deadpanned “Could you step off my train please?” I glanced down and yup, my super cute nude kitten heel was comfortably resting on her beaded train. Minutes later I made a quiet exit.
I’d like to believe that I’m not alone in wedding mishaps. If you have embarrassing blunders, I’d love to hear them! Email them to me at biancat@torontostandard.com and I might compile them into their own article. Pseudonyms can be used. We’ve all been there.
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Bianca Teixeira writes about style for Toronto Standard. Follow her on Twitter at @BeeLauraTee.
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