Come the fall I'm to be matron of honor for Single Gal's wedding. This is a high honor, and I think I've mentioned that being a Truly Dear Friend, she is letting me choose my own dress rather than forcing me to wear some flowery chintz upholstery fabric extravaganza with a gigantic bow in just the place no one out of elementary school should wear one. I don't mean to seem ungrateful, but this still saddles me with the job of
going shopping, a thing I detest (you now understand why Mr. W. prizes me highly). I just want you to see what I've got to work with.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWcwhsQshIUDzL4HnCEsUXbpwpMf_8hm1nzXowZ1po3EL8YY-n1L8m8Gi0H7q9F14gYHUmq1KW7hGzeW5dVSGSV-ZlQEvsbwkABl0L4dlMlWY5zotVsdGOu4ho56wd-6-zYwZJ1Q/s320/bow.jpg)
The strapless stomach bustle. Moving the huge bow to the front does not make it less objectionable.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiFy9rj0yFmwjTIsk2QZsoXjElvWyIpuRcKqF-2AHoQkIqEF1naVeQQrE2nVpsGqku7EOimJ3Tr_A0euqrpRev1Wx29pEqCi5e2RIb-3whxu8b6SoGmaZN5nFww-Keiy389Zgk8A/s320/Dolce.jpg)
Might clash with the stained glass windows.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBs6-KEtYdvQWY8eL9T52sRYeFU6US_gMLKidsPdWHJBn3SQMEMtNiznI_2iBKAfDUnVsTZ1kfs1u-hQYCuOJvluJMyNNMFbmbe0J4zez3shG4ru1bG5149y5TAuN6eRvuHhpmug/s320/halter.jpg)
Because nothing says "Christian witness to the vows" like a middle-age matron in a halter dress.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitKCAHc8XA3U-jQ834sPFNJvMHEG5N_GldShILn34NZ6SQUkzTqLK2DlJo6FhFP_lR2ezevazDVD3ZVd9Beyecr1K49NrJxIvqOVj-MQ2OGfAozF31nVkveqXC0XNGZ6PeuCnfw/s320/grecian+goddess.jpg)
Maybe. If the wedding were taking place on Crete.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Xnuk0sLsbKGMoc6g4Pi6Iq5c9VrxkHdfHfFIfuO5IWTJVq1sU30IOxLydJ1MnE-7_Cgbv92rctzvhbLlszq5vScUhmJdtQpC7KTmDmtLo4h56Mmdw3FbYZuTdx8mVWhye7rRvA/s320/shutter+pleats.jpg)
Because there's dressed to the nines and then there's dressed to
x, the unknown.
I do want to make a statement with what I wear, and it's: I'm not a cougar, I'm the bride's best friend.