The Road To The Altar: My In-Laws Asked Me Not To Show My Breasts And Back At My Wedding
As I sat at the kitchen table with my future mother-in-law, ending a more than two-hour-long conversation about my upcoming nuptials to her beloved first-born child, she turned to me and said, “For the wedding, could you keep all this and all this covered?” She said this while planting her hand on my back, shoulders and the top of my chest.
All this and this was in reference to my breasts and back (shoulders included).
My future mother and father-in-law are very religious people. My fiancé’s dad is even a minister. So I knew they wouldn’t want anything too “colorful” when it comes to our big day. But I was still a little taken aback by the concerns for my bridal gown. Especially since I had already bought it, and both my back and a chunk of ya girl’s decolletage will be on display (no breasts, though).
She would go on to say that when it was time for the reception, though, I could wear what I wanted to. If I remember the conversation clearly, she specifically said, “You can do whatever and we’ll say, ‘Go Vicky!’ ‘Go Vicky!'” while doing a jig in the middle of the kitchen.
As I sat there, all I could do was smile like a Cheshire cat and say to my future mum that “Everything will be nice, don’t worry.” Which translates to “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”
But don’t get me wrong. My dress is tasteful. In fact, when I tried on different dresses and scoped the Internet for my dream gown, I tried to go for more modest looks. I am a Christian woman as well. So I searched for a cap sleeve here, a boat neck neckline there, lace sleeves here and there.
But then I had to remind myself of all the work I’d done in 2015 to slim down and tone up, and decided that I wanted not just to walk down the aisle looking “pretty,” but strut down looking fabulous. So, I tried on a curve-hugging, strapless Zac Posen gown, a backless number with a halter top at David’s Bridal, and an old-school princess dress with cap sleeves, a big skirt, and a little back showing. I realized the curve-hugging joints were my jam.
In the end, I opted for something chic with a side of sex appeal. Something tasteful that also happens to make my backside look absolutely fantastic. Something a tad demure, but different, that would also display all the work I’d done on my arms. A gal hopes only to get married once, and that unforgettable moment in your life is not the time to play coy.
(On a side note, I didn’t even bother to tell my mother this story, because I know she would have just gotten herself all riled up, and I don’t have enough free anytime minutes for that conversation.)
So, I thought to myself, if my fiancé was willing to go toe-to-toe with his mom in that same kitchen about something as petty as having alcohol for his friends at our reception (she was fighting for cider instead), I could politely decline the suggestion that I look like a nun in the Lord’s house.
I think if she had bought my dress, which my mother-in-law had actually said she hoped to do before finding out I’d already covered that ground, then I would be more accommodating about such things. But considering all the stress wedding planning has caused me, the simple and most fun task of finding, falling in love with and purchasing my dream dress shouldn’t be open for discussion. This isn’t Say Yes to the Dress now.
So, with that being said, I’ll just pray for a positive reaction when I come strolling down the aisle in the church this fall. God willing, she won’t run and throw a shawl over me…