Itchy itchy bitchy!

There's no easy way to put this without sounding like a whiny bitchy self-loathing person, but i'm going to try anyways.

I'm feeling left out. I'm the third wheel, the elephant in the room, and the girl they all pity but don't have the heart to say anything bad to her face...

Today's been a pretty bad self-pity-party so slap on a party hat and join me. I'm kidding, i'm not going to spend an entire post pitying myself... i still have some dignity left (somewhere?) so i'm not going to berate myself anymore than i already have.

However, i am going to go on a rant about wedding dresses, so beware.

=================================

Quite recently i went camping with some friends, where at one point, we all donned our swimwear and became thoroughly dissapointed when both swimming spots were closed due to high water (biblical-sized rainstorms here, it rather sucks.) but i noticed just how much i truly hate my body. well, not really my body, just the clothes that go on it.

My swimsuit (which i would post pictures of if my poor camera wasn't attempting to commit sepuku...) is adorable. on the hanger. It's this somewhat vintage-looking navy blue and white micro-polka-dotted swimdress that --up until recently -- had underwires! which didn't work. The line where my cleavage was supposed to stop, was halfway to my belly button, while the top of my swimsuit barely covered my breasts at all! For some strange unknown reason, whatever god (or goddess...) that created me, decided to make my life a living hell when it comes to covering up my lady bits.

My shoulders -- like most plus-sized girlies -- are too wide. My arms are chunky and flabby and refuse to fit in anything that doesn't contain nylon. I am a not-so-modest size 32 waist, followed by double-d breasts that are anything but perky. (too big to be fried eggs on a nail, so i'm gonna go with sagging water balloons that have been in the sun way too long...) And my behind is... well... lacking. My legs are short and stocky and are covered in scars from wars with wicker furniture and buckets of frozen chain (long story) that i'm almost ashamed to wear anything above the knee so finding clothes for my particular size is a daunting task -- especially when coupled with the fact that i live in the most cornpone unknown little town this side of the land of Oz.... (our biggest attraction is a university that nobody likes, and various bowling alleys. Oh, we're also on a list of top 15 places to find a meth lab! YAY!) On top of all this, i am a modest 5'4" (shorter than majority of my friends...) and for some damn reason, i have the tallest torso in the freaking world! (sitting down, i'm taller than my boyfriend by like, 6 inches. standing up? he's taller by about the same amount!) So when the hunt for a blouse begins, i'm often having to pull and stretch things to fit (because apparently designers think all fat people get shorter as they get wider... we must just suck the fat out of our legs and place it in our stomachs, because the larger sizes are, the shorter they become.... genius, right?)

I've yet to find a t-shirt my size that actually fits correctly. either they're too short and barely reach my elastic waistbanded jeans (because those are totally fashionable....) or they're unbelievably long and i could practically make a dress with it!

Each shopping adventure ends up in one of four ways....

1) We've gone to Walmart for a fruitless attempt at buying clothes in a 4x. Sometimes you'll find a large 3x, other times you wonder if the designer stuck "4x" on the tag, and then forgot he made it out of shrinky-dinks.

2) We've traversed heavy traffic and landed at Catherines -- a specifically plus-sized store, spent upwards of 100 dollars on clothes, and ended up with three things. One of which fits correctly, none of which looks like a 20-something should wear....

3) We've gone to biglots to buy bras that will scratch the eff out of my shoulders, and barely contain my ladies who are desparately trying to escape through the bottom, all while in boring shades of white and black, complete with a 50-pack of granny panties that are great for periods, but not much for intimacey....

4) And last but not least, we've gone to goodwill.... to rifle through racks of rediculously patterned garments that ended up there because nobody in their right mind would want to own it. It was probably a christmas gift from colorblind Aunt Bertha who thinks Moomoo patterns look "good" on a girl your size.

Most of these adventures usually end with dad huffing and puffing, mum grabbing clothes you wouldn't want to wipe your own ass with, and you picking out clothes that looked fantastic on the hanger, the tag says is your size, and ultimately (once you get home) are seven kinds of too small. (You can call it "revealing" all you want, it's still too small.)

So needless to say, i'm rather sick of it.

When it comes to wedding dresses, it's not much different.

I've been searching for the "perfect" gown for about a half of a year. Though i've had a few in mind, most of them are all custom-made pieces of glorious artwork, all shipped from across the pond in the amazing places of England and Australia. Places like David's Bridal, Lucia's Bridal, and etc? Sure they carry dresses in my size (sometimes...) and sure they look wonderful, but if you notice? none of these dresses are portrayed on anybody bigger than a size 18!!!

I don't know about you, but i'm a size THIRTY-FREAKING-TWO! If i'm going to be buying PLUS-SIZED clothing, i want it on PLUS-SIZED models!! I don't want Ms. Bolemia strutting around in a gown that wouldn't even fit my calf! If you're going to run a "specifically plus-sized and full-figured bridal boutique" then put your clothes on models that are going to fit the bill.

I mean, if you were going to sell a new line of clothing for cabbage patch kids, you wouldn't be showing off the new season on Barbie and Ken, right? then why do it to people!? Ugh.

"Well maybe if you lose some weight, you wouldn't have to shop in plus-sizes!" Bite me.
"You've got nearly two years before the wedding, why not try eating better and taking care of yourself?" Go suck a duck.
"You know, it's not healthy being your size... you should try dieting. i used to be pretty big myself!" You were 30 lbs heavier and you were pregnant. Kiss my large flabby behind.

This is the kind of annoying drivel i hear on a near-daily-basis from family and friends when i talk about my frustration buying clothes. (no one should be brought to tears in a walmart changing booth because of mere words...) but it happens. People who have been skinny their entire lives (being pregnant does NOT count as fat!) think they know what's right for you and your body. Forget the fact that everyone in your family has been nearly 300lbs for as long as anybody can remember, forget the fact that sometimes it's physically impossible to do exercise (Read: MRSA), just eat better. and you'll magically lose all that weight and be "beautiful.".

Bite. me.

I eat healthier than majority of these rich sniveling bastards on any given day of the week. One of my mother's friends was thoroughly shocked to find out that we didn't throw tantrums and sob and cry because grandpa didn't take us out to eat when we went to visit him. because apparently that's a very un-fat thing to do! :-O oh no! we didn't get to stuff our faces with junk-food! heaven-for-bid!! How shall i ever survive without those tortured chicken bits fried in 11 herbs and spices?? How can i sleep at night knowing all that processed cheese and greasy blobs of hamburger-look-a-like isn't rotting away inside me!?

Seriously, fuck off. I'm so sick of the stigma that larger people get that we don't eat healthy. Jim and I cook for ourselves constantly, making things healthier at each and every turn! Believe it or not i grimace at the idea of fried food! I literally cannot ingest hamburgers and sausage because of tiny pockets in my intestines that grab those tiny greasy bits of food and let them rot inside me. If you think it was caused because i'm fat, i want you to find the nearest traffic cone, and insert it into your nether-regions unlubed whilst i finish.

Anyways, the people over at "Axis of fat" (a blog i'm absolutely in LURVE with!) have got the right idea. You need to love your body. Love every valley, every curve, every dimple and scar. Yes i may not be happy with my size, but i'm going to love it anyway. As long as i'm healthy and happy i shouldn't have to be tortured every day with how i look and how i feel about it. (Ironically the first way i found out about AOF, was because of a post on offbeatbride.com about one of it's writers and her very steampunkish wedding and the gorgeous bright red wedding gown!)

I've been introduced to the fact that i may be able to have my dreamgown custom-made for me. for my size, for my shape, in every little detail i want! (yay!) Only bad thing? I never get to really see my dress until it's finished... why? because nobody near my town is a seamstress or a tailor. And those who are, want to charge me thousands of dollars for a dress that wouldn't take them that much effort to make! If it wasn't for the fact that i don't know how to sew certain things, i'd do the damn thing myself!

I'd honestly love to sign-on one of the lovely ladies over at Etsy to make my dress... or even one of the talented beauties on Deviantart, but it just makes me grip my heart in anxiety over the fact that these dresses will not be technically custom-fitted to me, and may indeed be off quite a bit, with nobody to help solve the matter within miles!

It's the same predicament with buying a dress online... once i order the dress, there are no refunds! if the size is off because their size-chart is different to my tape-measure, then i have to shell out ANOTHER 600 dollars i can't afford to get it bigger in hopes it may or may not fit!

*sigh* I'm just super stressed over this whole dress debacle...

If anybody has any plus-sized dress stories (good or bad...) i'd love to hear them... especially if they involve any seamstresses (geared towards medieval clothing!) near the Terre Haute, Indiana area, haha.

le-sigh.
-Cake42