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Always A Sister, Sometimes A Bridesmaid

, , , , , | Related | March 19, 2021

I’m the oldest of three sisters. The youngest sister is fully in her gothic elegance/vampire-esque fashion style. She’s had to really fight our parents about wearing it; despite her looking extremely smart in it, they can’t get over the fact that it’s black on black, so at this time she’s been refusing to change her style for ANYONE and ANYTHING. She also works in fashion and knows seasonal trends, etc. She’s ideal to have around if you want style advice, basically. The middle sister — [Bride] in this story — has a very effeminate style — bright and pastel colours and florals.

[Bride] is getting married and is having a spring-themed wedding, which she clarifies to mean light colours, pastels, and florals. Her bridesmaids — the groom’s sisters, her friends — go from being great and loving the light pinky-purple dresses [Bride] picked to suddenly hating them after [Bride] pays for them. They start demanding that she buys them black dresses that are really, really short and reveal a lot; it’s pretty clear that they want [Bride] to pay for party dresses for them.

I then find out from [Youngest Sister] that Mum has been steamrolling every appointment so it’s what SHE wants rather than [Bride], and when [Bride] stands up for herself, Mum calls her a Bridezilla and threatens to not let her have use of a family heirloom that’s been used for every wedding in our family for literal centuries.

We are in a group chat, just the three of us sisters. None of us have discussed what [Youngest Sister] and I are wearing for the wedding. [Bride] has been messaging us complaining about the bridesmaids.

Bride: “It’s just OBVIOUS they just want a free outfit from me! I don’t have that kind of money.”

Youngest Sister: “Plus, like, you’re the one who has to live with the photos. I’ve tried that with Mum, by the way, and she’s still not budging on the holly jacket and dark green skirt.”

Me: “They’re s*** friends. Drop ‘em. Also, how dark is this green?”

Youngest Sister: “It’s pine green. Literally the colour of a Christmas tree. I have no patience for her. ‘It’s flooooraaaaaaal and green is new groooooowth.’ BS! It’s not. It’s obviously from the autumn/winter collection. It even says it on the label!”

Bride: “Thanks for trying. Oh, by the way, you know that velvet floral thing you have?”

Youngest Sister: “You mean the one dad calls my funeral attire, yes?”

Bride: “Yeah. Can you wear it to the wedding?”

Youngest Sister: “I mean… I can, but I did buy something specific for the wedding.”

Me: “Ooh, so did I. Do you have photos?”

Youngest: “Sure do. I’ll send them through. But like, I’ll wear whatever you want, [Bride]”

We wait for the photos to come through. I am shocked to see that it’s a pencil/shift dress with a rose pink bodice and a white rose floral design for the bottom with the roses outlined in black. She’s coupled it with a black shrug, black and pink shoes with roses on them, and a pink fascinator/hat that has a little veil effect.

Me: “This is mine!”

I share what I picked out, which is from the same collection as [Youngest Sister]’s dress. Mine is an A-line with the white floral rose print on the bodice and the skirt section entirely in the rose pink. I’ve coupled it with a white shrug and white and pink shoes.

Youngest Sister: “Oh, my!”

Me: “We match!”

Bride: “Did you match on purpose?”

Youngest Sister: “I spent a long time looking at that one but couldn’t deal with the amount of rose pink on that one, though I love the silhouette.”

Me: “We didn’t talk about it! I tried that one on but the hips said no.”

Youngest Sister: “We didn’t. And just as well your hips don’t lie, really. But anyway. I’ll wear what you want me to do, in this case.”

Bride: “But you HATE pink! And… colours! You’re a beautiful, gothic fairytale living your best life and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable!”

Youngest Sister: “I hate them for making you cry more than I hate pink. I’m gonna give them a shock and show ’em how it’s supposed to be done since they’re s***s.”

Bride: “Christ. Like. Wow. Okay. If you’re happy to. Like. Thank you.”

The subject changes and a few days go by. Then, we get this.

Bride: “I was trying to compromise with the two s***s and was telling them how my very gothic sister has gone with a pink and white dress… which matches my other sister’s dress… and then it clicked. Why am I wasting my time with those two?! F*** ‘em! Will you be my bridesmaids, instead?”

Naturally, we agreed. Our parents did think this meant that [Youngest Sister] had moved on from her phase, but they were quickly disappointed. Whenever Mum nagged her over her clothing, she’d just point out the winter suit Mum wore to a spring wedding.


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