‘Right.’ Rosa beamed at us, perched on my little armchair. ‘I have some very exciting designs to show you. Marilyn’s dress is already begun, but first I need information. Like – what colour is this wedding? What is the theme – the flowers or invitations or location? And, most of all, what is the wedding dress? Otherwise, I cannot make good match?’
They all looked at me with expectant smiles. Natasha clapped her hands together a few times with excitement.
I pretended it wasn’t weird meeting one of my bridesmaids for the first time.
‘Right. So. I haven’t really thought much about that stuff yet. I thought it would be nice to have a colour that suited all of you, then we can choose everything else to match.’
Three pairs of eyes goggled at me. ‘You don’t have your colours yet?’
‘Nope.’
‘I have my colours picked and I don’t even have a boyfriend!’ Catherine said. ‘Everyone has their colours, don’t they?’ She looked at Natasha for confirmation.
‘Mint, sea foam and yellow.’
‘Fig, camel, and blush pink,’ Catherine said. ‘See? What about you, Marilyn?’
Marilyn grinned. ‘I had old man underpants and rancid chicken.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Yellow and pewter.’
‘Right!’ Catherine looked back to me. ‘So, what are you going to choose?’
I looked at my three bridesmaids. ‘Umm… what colour dresses would you like?’
An hour later, Rosa had taken all the essential measurements, and they had decided they liked blue.
We chose navy for Marilyn as matron-of-honour, as it flattered her mid-brown hair and paler skin, and ‘dusty aqua’ for the others, as they preferred a colour with a fancier name.
‘That is good,’ Rosa said. ‘I will make beautiful navy dress make Marilyn look like she very sexy lady, and dusty aqua dresses, give you girls shape. We give you nice round hips so men think you make good babies.’
‘Um, I don’t think men are really bothered about that.’ Catherine frowned, glancing at Marilyn’s ample frame.
‘Hah! That what you think. Men all modern now, talking about feelings, wearing guyliner and leggings, don’t give up seat on the bus. But it there in old bit of brain. What you say? Caveman bit. Anyway, first we need see wedding dress so Faith look more gorgeous than rest of you. Faith – you go get dress and I pin Marilyn’s sample while we wait.’
‘Actually, I don’t mind if their dresses don’t match mine.’
‘What? That make no sense. I’m top-class seamstress. I make match and still look good on these skinny women.’
‘I know, but I don’t think it’s fair to make my dress look better than theirs.’
‘Of course fair! You the bride! Stop being so nice. Go and put dress on.’
‘Okay, but the other dresses will have to be quite ugly if mine’s going to look nicer.’
‘Fine. Whatever. I don’t understand you now. We want see dress please.’
I trudged up the stairs and took the Ghost Web out of the wardrobe in my tiny spare room. Yanking it on, I didn’t bother looking in the mirror before returning to the living room.
Marilyn shook her head. ‘It gets worse every time I see it. I always think it won’t be as bad as I remember, but my mind can’t actually retain how awful it is.’
She, on the other hand, looked incredible, having borrowed my bedroom to change into the tight-waisted, three-quarter-length-sleeved sample dress. It had a huge, floor-length skirt of floaty material that would have made me appear like a child drowning in her mother’s party frock.
‘You look incredible, Marilyn.’
‘Wish I could say the same to you.’
