Hmm.
First impression: The actual dress fabric and color might be rather winning if, say, it came with some gently sparkly spaghetti straps and a brooch/blingier detail under the boobs. But I'm put off by the shiny satin. It reminds me very much of a bridesmaid dress that Marisa unwisely repurposed because the bride told her she could someday. (Never listen to the brides, people. They are crazy. They are trying to make you feel better about spending all the money on the dress that you only wear for one night, and in a fog of self-consciousness and stress and possibly a sugar high from all that cake-tasting, they're also trying to convince themselves and everyone else that their pick really IS so awesome that you'll want to wear it again, thus making them way cooler and more fashion-forward than every other bride in the world.)
But there is something very suspicious peeking out from the back, which I suspect we need to investigate:
First impression: The actual dress fabric and color might be rather winning if, say, it came with some gently sparkly spaghetti straps and a brooch/blingier detail under the boobs. But I'm put off by the shiny satin. It reminds me very much of a bridesmaid dress that Marisa unwisely repurposed because the bride told her she could someday. (Never listen to the brides, people. They are crazy. They are trying to make you feel better about spending all the money on the dress that you only wear for one night, and in a fog of self-consciousness and stress and possibly a sugar high from all that cake-tasting, they're also trying to convince themselves and everyone else that their pick really IS so awesome that you'll want to wear it again, thus making them way cooler and more fashion-forward than every other bride in the world.)
But there is something very suspicious peeking out from the back, which I suspect we need to investigate:
Wow. That is a lot of.... wow. That thing on her back might make for some very nice lumbar support when she's stuck sitting in an uncomfortable chair all night, joining everyone else in watching Angelina and Brad to count how often they touch, hold hands, kiss, laugh at each other, or stare vacantly into space. On its own, though, it seems a bit like her back had a rough night and is vomiting up the pineapple on her hotel room's fruit platter.
