A white kallah gown is something you only wear once in your life (you’re right, besides for when you’re three and it’s finally Purim), so here are tips on how to keep it white and sealed at the seams.
The multitude of events at my wedding prompted me to put together a full listing of what can happen to your gown, and how to avoid aforementioned happenings.
Disclaimer: Author will take no responsibility for fees accumulated due to severe anxiety, or the need for medication or therapy. Please do note that calming herbs are for sale by a great-aunt of aforementioned author, who can be contacted through the magazine.
The Gone Gown and the Dragon:
Two days before my big day, I had a sudden desire to try on my wedding gown and practice dancing in it. (Definitely recommended, folks. Fun for the family and knocks off any extra weight you were worrying about when you start moving with an extra 50 distributed all over your body. ) That was when my mother noticed the stain. It was egg-yolk yellow, the shape of a chick, on the sleeve, and it wasn’t pretty. She hurriedly called the gown rental—the other option was 911—and they recommended their Chinese cleaners, Ho Chi Sun. We zoomed down there with the gown and breathed a premature sigh of relief. Phew.
The relief was short-lived though, because that’s where the Ho Chi Sun dynasty trouble began. Yes, we failed to notice that the day of my wedding was the very first day of the Chinese New Year.
“Hello. So sorry we are out. Thank you for calling. It’s the Year of the Dragon. Happy Chinese New Year!” the answering machine at the cleaners wished us.
Thanks, and happy Chinese New Year to you to. Now can I please have my gown back?
It was the day the gown was supposed to be ready, and also the morning of my wedding. But the Chinese dry cleaners were AWOL, probably celebrating the New Year with their Ho Chi Sun elders and some colorful dragons. And they were holding my clean gown hostage. Yikes!
My frantic mother called Cousin Ari as a last resort before acting on her threat of 911. No one ever says no to Ari, mainly because he’s sweet, charming and approximately six foot seven. Ari tracked down the dragon dancers in Chinatown, and returned a short while later holding up the gown, like a trophy. (My petite gown was kind of trophy-like in his beefy hands, now that I think about it, which I happen to be doing right now.) Ari refused to reveal his tactics, although something tells me that I don’t want to know. A huge part of me didn’t even want to know—as long as the white gown was on me, and not gracing some Chinese noodle soup laden table.
Tip: Avoid the Chinese New Year like a dragon.