Recently, I received a call from my soon-to-be married friend, Janelle. After years of bad mistakes, Janelle was finally getting hitched, and to a really good guy. I had already agreed to be one of her bridesmaids and now it was time to go try on the infamous dresses. Janelle promised, “Mimi swore she would find a pattern that will look good on everyone, and it won’t be in peach or mauve or hot pink.”
“I like hot pink,” I pout, but I am glad to hear that our wonderfully hip, fashion designer friend, Mimi, is behind the dress. Two days later, we all show up at her studio to get measured. As we each stripped down, we began to talk about all the romantic mistakes we have made along the way. I’ve dated everything from a guy who was addicted to porn to a man who was in line to be a prince, so I have screwed up both in getting the guy, and in letting him go. My friends have all had their own, “uh-oh” moments on the road to the ones they are now with, and as we get our measurements, they begin to dish.