September 9, 2008...12:18 pm

The Mystery of the Bachelorette Party

This weekend, I will schlep my big, white arse down to West Palm, Florida for a bachelorette weekend.  My long-time friend, Miss Sarah Lee Rose is tying the knot in October and nothing says “I do” more than a weekend of celebrated singleness and debauchery.

Ah, the bachelorette party.  Often overlooked in the shadow of the mighty Bachelor Party, the Bachelorette Party is a powerful thing.  Never underestimate the power of a group of women in stillettos hunting for free drinks and someone to lick whip cream off of the bride-to-be’s chest.  That’s a force to be reckoned with.  Much more powerful than, say, a group of drunken slobs who pass out between someone named Sugar and the stripper pole.

But I have to say, bachelorette parties are a bit scary to me since I’ve been married.  Not scary in the sense that I fear them, but scary in the way the first day of school is scary – I just don’t know where to go or what to do.  As a married person, you tend to avoid situations involving any combination of cosmopolitans, mini-skirts, and large numbers of single men.  Although, when you put it that way, I have to wonder WHY anyone would avoid those situations cause it sound pretty fantastic to me…  Nevertheless, I don’t have much experience with bachelorette parties since I’ve been married, which leaves me oddly uncomfortable about this weekend.

And, as usual, it all hinges on my wardrobe.  I can’t find a thing to wear, and I have bought half the retail merchandise in the tri-state area in the past few weeks.  All I need is a “sundress” for a surprise event on Friday (which I cannot divulge here because said bride-to-be is a devoted fan of this humble blog…) and I need a little black dress for Saturday’s big night out.  SaturDAY is not really an issue because we’ll be at the pool in bathing suits, so I should be sufficiently humiliated sitting next to all those tan Florida girls.  I don’t really need to purchase anything for that kind of nightmare. I can pretty much embarrass myself in any ol’ bathing suit.

But the dresses – DAMN THE DRESSES!  I either look like I’m going to church or like I’m going to work the corner of 4th and Palafox Streets.  I decided to go with the church look, but dress it up with some funky heels or jewelry.  Now, I just look like one of those crazy, old ladies who sit in the front pew every Sunday with a big feathered hat.  The kind of person who makes you wonder, “Doesn’t anyone love that poor person enough to tell her how ridiculous she looks?”  I have this gorgeous, black slip dress from Banana Republic (…sigh…how I miss my relationship with Banana Republic, which has tragically been replaced by my relationship with Home Depot).  So I bought these really stylish deep purple, kind of shiny, very high heels to wear with them and a big chunky gold necklace.  I look like I should be at a Mardi Gras parade.  Actually, I look like I should be IN the Mardi Gras parade.

And I bought this other dress for Friday night.  Its black and white and makes me look like…what was the word Chris used???…cheap slut.  Oh, that’s right.  It makes me look like a cheap slut.

So those are my two choices.  I can either look like an insane Sunday School teacher at a Mardi Gras parade or I can look like a cheap slut (thank you, Chris).

Life is full of complicated decisions

7 Comments


Comments are closed.