As a child I was utterly enthralled by the story of Fantastic Mr Fox. I have, in fact, always had a bit of a soft spot for the feral rusty-coloured dogs ever since. I pity the emaciated ones, I even forgive the one that bit a hole in the tail of my big fat ginger cat (it was probably just flirting right?). I’ve even forgiven them turning my dustbin over on collection day – they must have had a hard night hunting, it’s just the dog equivalent of McDonalds (though my neighbour still hasn’t forgiven the fox, or for that matter, me).
The bit that stuck in my mind from the story most of all, was Boris, Bunce and Bean… for any of you who’ve ever read the story, had it read to you, or seen the film (George Clooney even sexy as the voice of a plasticine fox, I know, I know, he brings sexy to everything), you’ll know the rhyme:
‘Boris, Bunce and Bean,
One Fat, One Short, One Lean
These terrible crooks
So different in Looks….’ Blah blah blah.
So, what does a children’s story have to do with Love Scarlett, a wedding journal. I can hear you thinking now ‘she’s totally lost the plot this time, this is a digression too far,’ but it’s probably my best analogy to date since I’m talking about bridesmaids. Obviously. Had you not guessed?!
Bridesmaids. Like Boris, Bunce and Bean, too come in a variety of shapes and sizes, and, on occasion in various states of pregnancy. I know I know, how very dare they get pregnant when you’d already chosen those figure hugging Coast numbers, but, can I level with you a little secret? Biology and conception is something that you can’t plan around wedding dates, well perhaps around your own, but not someone else’s.
You can’t miss out a whole six month window if you want to have a baby because of a bridesmaid dress that will probably still fit you on the day. And, if your friend who is pregnant is your bridesmaid for the reasons she should be (ie you love her, and she’s the kind of friend you can call no matter what the time or the problem), give her a hug: her changing body will be enough of a challenge to her without you throwing a bridezilla style wobbly. And PS you have yourself a designated driver for the Hen do. I would call that a result.
So, my point is this. Bridesmaids are, by virtue of the fact that you have asked them to stand with you, and by you on your wedding day, your best friends. Be kind. Remember that, chances are, even if they are all a size 10-12 (they won’t be) they won’t be the same size 10-12. Here I could bore you with height, ratios, body types, but you’re female. You’ve read all that stuff before. Try and get a dress that they want to wear. One of our favourite trends recognises this and unites the look by having dresses in the same colours but different styles.
As a sort of second point in this, same colour, different fabrics – you’re probably looking at For the pregnant bride empire lines are great as bumps expand at different rates, but another fabric that is a pregnant women’s friend is something with a bit of lycra in it… I know, we spend most of our life trying to hide our tummys and shy away from stretchy stuff that might cling, but, so long as SHE is comfortable, human nature loves to admire a baby bump. Conversely if one of your ‘maids is plus size, don’t go making her wear something with lycra. Or for that matter strapless (she will need support in the boobage area). And satin and strapless? Well that will end up making her have rolls like sausages. She’s one of your best friends. Make sure she feels fabulous too, or else she’ll feel uncomfortable and look it in all the photos. There is no up-side to being inconsiderate. No one will notice the bridesmaids. Except the straight single men. And they’re your friends your bridesmaids, you want them to have a good time too right (if they are single, and even if they’re taken, you want their other halves/potential other halves to this pwoar about them too right)?!
“We’ve complied our list of our favourite high street shops for you all to begin investigating, so you can find that pretty dress that say’s bridesmaid, but also say’s friend”.
Words by Harriet Rouse