Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

My sister's wedding is next weekend, and as she's been planning it over the past year and a half, she's had several wedding related crises of varying levels.

The first, as I remember it, was related to our dresses. She had ordered all of them from a Kaufman's store in Central Pennsylvania. But Kaufman's went filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy and put many brides' plans in jeopardy. Even though we had put down a deposit on our dresses, they had not ordered them and were not giving up any refunds.

To get our money back, we had to go through the attorney general's office. In my case, since I'd paid with a debit card, I was able to convince my bank to reverse the charges. My brother's wife, also a bridesmaid, did likewise with her credit card company. My mom, however, who had written a check for my sister's dress, had no such luck. I don't know if she's received a refund yet.

Fortunately, we had time to spare, so my sister found another store and different dresses, and we got things rolling again.

Her other crises have primarily come more recently, some of which I've written about already, such as the fact the tree that she was hoping would be a visual center of the ceremony was cut down. Instead, we found an archway she could rent which could serve the same purpose.

Then there was the cupcake fiasco, where my mom worried she wouldn't be able to stay and enjoy the reception because she was going to have a long day in State College, beginning with icing the cupcakes for the reception (my sister's alternative to a traditional cake), and she has animals at home that need care. She solved this problem by finding somebody to take care of the animals.

And there there's something I hadn't mentioned: her photographer backed out on her at the last minute to take an unexpected opportunity to fly to London. Fortunately, he arranged a substitute photographer, and after meeting with them and talking about what she wanted, she was willing to accept the exchange.

I personally have not experienced a crisis related to my sister's wedding since the Kaufman's dress incident. This weekend, I had three.

My first crises was really more of an inconvenience. This took place on Saturday afternoon, when The Gryphon and I were in IKEA, hoping to buy the paper lanterns my sister had requested. She planned to use them as decorative touches at her reception, and she wanted a specific number of lanterns in two different sizes, all white.

To our dismay, the only available paper lanterns is that size were a moss green. This would clash with her tropical palette of bright colors: red, yellow, orange, purple and blue. The only white ones were larger than the ones she'd requested, and there were only four of them, but we bought them just to be safe. We figured it was better to have the wrong size and the right color than to have the right size and the wrong color.

Sure enough, when I eventually got her on the phone, she reassured me we'd made the right decision.

My second wedding related crisis was more of a mental crisis than an actual one. I've never been really comfortable with doing makeup and a number of other girlie things. Ask me about British comedy, ask me about poetry, and we can talk for hours. On eye liner, I'm a ninny.

I wanted new makeup for the wedding, though, because most of mine is old and should just be thrown out. But I wasn't sure what I ought to get, so The Gryphon suggested I meet with a makeup consultant at a local mall, get some advice and then purchase what I wanted.

At the end of a full day on Saturday, which consisted of helping The Gryphon move boxes out of his apartment, buying myself some new clothes at the local Salvation Army store, and stopping at IKEA with The Gryphon for organizational supplies and the ill-fated paper lanterns, we arrived at the mall with just enough time for the makeup consultation.

I was very happy with the results and spent more money at one time on makeup than I've probably spent in the past five years combined. I justified this by the fact that my dad is paying for my bridesmaid dress and I can wear the makeup at other times.

Everything was fine until we were halfway through watching Batman Begins and I absent-mindedly scratched my right elbow, discovering some bumps. I immediately panicked, thinking I was having an allergic reaction to the makeup, despite the fact that I'd bought hypoallergenic makeup from Clinique.

When the movie ended, I mentioned my concern to The Gryphon, who had a logical response: "If it's an allergic reaction to the makeup, why isn't it on your face?" He did have a point.

After careful consideration, we determined several ways the reaction could have occurred. One, I walk my dog, Una, on a daily basis. Some people don't trim their bushes well, and it's possible I brushed against a poisonous creeper such as poison ivy. This option seemed less likely, because the patch wasn't itchy, just bumpy.

Second was the possibility that, while helping him carry boxes, I came into contact with something to wish I was allergic, such as dust or some other chemical. This also seemed unlikely because I've been moving dusty boxes for a couple months now and have not had a similar reaction.

The third option is the most likely one. While trying on clothes in the Salvation Army, I remember one shirt that smelled strongly of perfume. It was also too small, and I only managed to get it over my arms down to my elbows before giving up. Since one of the only times I've had an allergic reaction on my skin was due to a sample of cheap perfume, I figure this is the most likely culprit.

Still, the test the theory, I wore the makeup again on Sunday to see what happened. I experienced no worsening of the condition and no further patches of skin irritation. So safe to say the makeup is not the source of the problem.

My third wedding crisis was the worst of the three. I had arranged to pick up my bridesmaid dress from my seamstress at 11 a.m. Sunday. The Gryphon came with me, bringing a book along, in case she had to make further alterations while we waited. We knocked on her door, and she answered it, looking surprised.

"Oh, my gosh," she said. "I didn't do it." As it turns out, on top of her usual busy schedule, a friend died this week, and the funeral threw her off to such a degree that my dress slipped her mind.

She kept saying, "It's not an excuse, I know," and she clearly felt very bad about the blunder. "I've had nightmares like this," she said.

Fortunately, there was enough time to right the wrong. Initially, she suggested making the alterations and bringing it to my place on Tuesday. But I thought that was cutting it too close, since we were leaving for my sister's on Thursday.

Then she suggested doing the alterations that afternoon and bringing them to me that evening. I readily agreed. And despite the fact that she got lost several times on her way and had to call for further instructions, she finally arrived with the dress, which had not only been altered but also steam pressed.

I tried on the dress, and it fit beautifully. The only problem was one she'd already anticipated. The skirt has two different layers of material, and even though she'd removed the same amount of material from each, the inner layer was longer. But she'd brought along her sewing supplies, and after pinning it in the proper place, she sat at the kitchen table and made the adjustments.

Trying on the dress again, it worked well, and we thanked her and paid her very reasonable price.

So, my various crises in control, I finally called my sister to tell her all about them. She, of all people, could understand.

Copyright 2005 by Alyce Wilson

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