Thursday, November 5, 2009


So about a month before our wedding day, I began my bridal gown alterations. I did end up purchasing the Maggie Sottero Nadine sample from House of Fashion in Sacramento. After negotiating with the manager, I was able to get the dress for about 40% off with a full cleaning and repair. While I was truly hesitant to purchase such a dishevled sample, it was the only dress I wanted. So I got it.

Thus, alterations began. The dress was just slightly too big for me. I met with my alterations lady, Ramona and we got started. I told her I wanted a more defined sweetheart bustline, and that I had been told, before purchasing, that it would be a simple "one-stitch" procedure. She agreed, showed me how it was to be done and told me to come back in a week to try it on.
I came back. The dress looked horrible. The bustline looked as if someone pinched it and stuck a pin in, and called it a day. I saw the single stitch holding it together and asked Ramona if there was any way we could get rid of the stitch and go back to the original. Since I was positive that could be done, I didn't panic, didn't raise my voice, just told her I changed my mind. She was livid. She went on and on. I looked at my attendant who looked horrified and I seriously almost started laughing. Ramona told me that she could not remove the stitch, that I had asked for that stitch and that it looked fine. Since my attendant obviously disagreed, the two left the room to discuss. There I was, on the bridal platform with a seriously messed up dress three weeks before my wedding.

Then I heard them call Nagy, another seamstress. There were several voices toppling one another. There was whispering, and then there was Russian. The two seamstresses began arguing, very loudly in their native tounge. I had to hold myself up to keep from laughing. Seriously? It went on for a good three minutes before Nagy, seamstress #2 bounced into the room. "She is fired, I take care of you, " the four-foot nine Russian said in her thick acccent as she climbed the bridal platform. With one snip, my dress was whole again. She worked miracles on my dress and it ended up looking exactly as I had wanted.

Of course, Ramona was not actually fired. Just fired from my dress. It was a ridiculous scene, one that could have been much worse. I had to commend myself for not being one of those brides who would have completely lost it in a situation like this. I ducked out, hoping Ramona was no where in sight.

1 comment:

  1. What a story! I can't even imagine. Glad you could keep an even head about it.