I still cringe when I think of the bridesmaid’s dress I wore in my friend, Jayne’s, wedding, in August of 1984. Jayne had selected a pattern that featured an off the shoulder number in the palest of yellow with two layers of chiffon. Sounds lovely. If you look like Jayne.
My first indication that this was going to be a disaster was when we showed up at the dressmaker’s house. There were yards and yards of Candy Apple Red taffeta and bridesmaids dresses in various stage of assembly strewn about her house. The dresses were for “Carl Karcher’s niece.” (How we learned to hate those words over the next 2 months!) She said she would have our dresses done in time, “No problem!” In case you don't know who Carl Karcher was, he was the "Carl," of Carl's Jr.
We checked on her progress over the next few weeks as the anticipation of the wedding mounted. We wanted to get the final fitting done in time. 2 weeks before the wedding, we called and were told that she was busy doing “Carl Karcher’s niece’s” dresses and we’d have to be patient. A week before the wedding, Jayne and the other bridesmaids insisted on going over to get our final fittings. What we met was an obviously sleep deprived and hysterical woman. She hung my pale limp carcass of a dress on my shoulders (that was the only place it had been sewn) and she pinned it together on the sides. Assuring us they would be done in a few days because she was still working on “Carl Karcher’s niece’s” dresses, we uneasily left and hoped for the best.
A few days passed and Jayne checked back. Now the woman was annoyed with us for being so pushy. “Don’t you realize I’m making dresses for Carl Karcher’s niece??!!” She assured Jayne that they would be done in time and slammed down the phone.
The day before the wedding Jayne called and (you guessed it) the dresses weren’t done. We were having the rehearsal dinner in a few hours. She promised they would be done by the time the dinner was finished. She was still working on “Carl Karcher’s niece’s” dresses.
Jayne went to the woman’s house and rang the bell. No answer. She knocked. In a few minutes, the door cracked and this bedraggled figure stuck her hand out and handed Jayne a big brown paper bag. It contained the dresses. There was not much to do at this point. Jayne took the bag and as she headed down the walk she could hear a feeble voice trailing behind her, “But I had to make dresses for Carl Karcher’s niece………”
My dress was a nightmare. The zipper hadn’t been put in the back so we fastened it together with straight pins. The other girls’ dresses were equally awful. The dresses all had 2 sets of darts. We each had double sets of “bosoms.” The color (which would have looked fabulous on my tanned, gorgeous friend, Jayne) was approximately the same shade as my pale, pasty shoulders. The uneven hemline and my uncomfortable grimace (from the pins poking me in the back) made for some lovely pictures. I looked like a big fat Tylenol.
To this day, when I think of that dress I wince a little. And I still wonder how “Carl Karcher’s niece’s” bridesmaids’ dresses turned out?
My first indication that this was going to be a disaster was when we showed up at the dressmaker’s house. There were yards and yards of Candy Apple Red taffeta and bridesmaids dresses in various stage of assembly strewn about her house. The dresses were for “Carl Karcher’s niece.” (How we learned to hate those words over the next 2 months!) She said she would have our dresses done in time, “No problem!” In case you don't know who Carl Karcher was, he was the "Carl," of Carl's Jr.
We checked on her progress over the next few weeks as the anticipation of the wedding mounted. We wanted to get the final fitting done in time. 2 weeks before the wedding, we called and were told that she was busy doing “Carl Karcher’s niece’s” dresses and we’d have to be patient. A week before the wedding, Jayne and the other bridesmaids insisted on going over to get our final fittings. What we met was an obviously sleep deprived and hysterical woman. She hung my pale limp carcass of a dress on my shoulders (that was the only place it had been sewn) and she pinned it together on the sides. Assuring us they would be done in a few days because she was still working on “Carl Karcher’s niece’s” dresses, we uneasily left and hoped for the best.
A few days passed and Jayne checked back. Now the woman was annoyed with us for being so pushy. “Don’t you realize I’m making dresses for Carl Karcher’s niece??!!” She assured Jayne that they would be done in time and slammed down the phone.
The day before the wedding Jayne called and (you guessed it) the dresses weren’t done. We were having the rehearsal dinner in a few hours. She promised they would be done by the time the dinner was finished. She was still working on “Carl Karcher’s niece’s” dresses.
Jayne went to the woman’s house and rang the bell. No answer. She knocked. In a few minutes, the door cracked and this bedraggled figure stuck her hand out and handed Jayne a big brown paper bag. It contained the dresses. There was not much to do at this point. Jayne took the bag and as she headed down the walk she could hear a feeble voice trailing behind her, “But I had to make dresses for Carl Karcher’s niece………”
My dress was a nightmare. The zipper hadn’t been put in the back so we fastened it together with straight pins. The other girls’ dresses were equally awful. The dresses all had 2 sets of darts. We each had double sets of “bosoms.” The color (which would have looked fabulous on my tanned, gorgeous friend, Jayne) was approximately the same shade as my pale, pasty shoulders. The uneven hemline and my uncomfortable grimace (from the pins poking me in the back) made for some lovely pictures. I looked like a big fat Tylenol.
To this day, when I think of that dress I wince a little. And I still wonder how “Carl Karcher’s niece’s” bridesmaids’ dresses turned out?
