Saturday afternoon found me strapped into the Nellie Bly straightjacket bra and stuffed into a too-small dress that wouldn’t even zip over my hips, next to Caryn’s sister, Olivia, whose dress fit her perfectly. While wedding dresses tended to be stocked in size ten and up to be accommodating to more brides, bridesmaid dresses were apparently as merciless as Caryn’s bridesmaids.
“It’s gorgeous,” Olivia cooed, turning this way and that and swishing the chiffon of the evening-length skirt. “It’s so flattering.”
She wasn’t lying. On her, it was. Even in the puke-green color that the sample came in.
On me, not so much. It had a padded bust that was detailed with ruched material designed to enhance the wearer’s chest a full cup size. Which on Olivia looked great. On me? Oh dear.
Caryn looked from Olivia to me, her mouth a scowl of disappointment. This was the third one we had tried on, and Caryn’s favorite by far before we put them on.
“We could try different styles for different bridesmaids,” the saleslady murmured to Caryn. “One dress doesn’t fit all in some cases.”
I looked in the mirror and could have cried from the frustration of being made to do this.
“I—Lily, what if you try it without the bra?” Caryn asked.
“It’s not going to stay up without the bra.” I shook my head.
“Perhaps a minimizing bra,” the saleslady suggested.
“Can we try a different dress?”
“I love this one,” Caroline said. “I think you should try the minimizing bra.”
I felt my jaw tightening. Earlier, she had asked why I hadn’t thought to bring Spanx with me, so we could get an accurate feel for how the previous dress could look.
“Why don’t I just get a breast reduction and solve everyone’s problems?” I asked, my voice dripping sarcasm.
“Don’t be silly,” Caryn said. “You’d have swelling and we wouldn’t have an accurate idea of your post-op size in time to order the dresses.”
My eyes widened and I started sputtering that I wasn’t serious, but Caryn didn’t notice. “Do you have any minimizing bras she could try here?”
“No.” The saleslady shook her head, eying me appraisingly. “We could try wrapping her with some fabric though.” I pictured Barbra Streisand binding her chest in Yentl. Caryn had her head tilted and was studying my chest, as if trying to picture how that would work.
“No.” I crossed my arms over my chest self-consciously. “I’m not doing that. Caryn, if I don’t fit into the mold of what you want your bridesmaids to look like, I don’t have to be in the wedding.”
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Caroline asked, hand on hip. “Are you really threatening to drop out of the wedding if you don’t like the dress?”
“No, I—”
“This isn’t about you. It’s Caryn’s day. You’re just being selfish.”
I looked to Caryn, horrified. She hadn’t said anything. “Caryn, I’m not threatening at all. I’m just saying if I can’t look the way you want, my feelings won’t be hurt if you don’t have me in the wedding.” Was that true? Of course not. But I would still rather not be in the wedding than have her be miserable over how I looked in it.
“You could get a minimizing bra,” Caroline said. “And maybe try a diet. We can’t do anything about your height, but if you wear flats with a long dress, and we all wear heels, it won’t be so bad.”
I recoiled, stung. I had considered the money I’d spent on the strapless bra to be a major concession to the fact that I didn’t look like Caryn’s other bridesmaids, but this was too much. I opened my mouth, about to tell her to go do something that wasn’t anatomically possible for her to do to herself, when I saw something interesting that made me hesitate. Dana was standing a little behind Caroline, and from that safe vantage point, she was glaring at her with the same unadulterated hatred that was probably mirrored on my face.
Oh thank God, I thought. It’s not just me.
Bolstered by that, I started to turn back to Caroline, ready to tell her where she could shove her minimizing bra, but a quick glance at Caryn stopped me. Caroline was going to be her sister-in-law. And saying what I wanted to say would make it harder for me to stay in Caryn’s life.
I took a deep breath and counted to ten.
“I’ll try to find a different bra,” I finally said, measuredly. “And I’m happy to wear flats. I’ll even get some Spanx if I have to, but I’m not changing how I actually look.”