Wedding Suspense

It seemed only right, as we were celebrating the union of the bride and groom, that I celebrate our union, with some special lingerie.

After all, we’ve only been married for two years. We still (quick where’s the bucket?) fancy the pants off each other. You’re never too old to act like a foolish lovesick teenager, I say. Though a teenager wouldn’t be able to afford what I was methodically hooking and eye-ing.

I worked my hand up the back of the seam, steadily moving the sheer fabric across and placing the hook into the eye. I smiled naughtily at the analogy. Then I reached down and opened the packet of silk, and ran my hands carefully through past the lace to the toe. Beautiful stockings always make me feel sexy.

“Hurry up Vix” he manfully called from downstairs.

I sprayed a little Versace in all the little-explored places, finished dressing, slipped on the heels and ran down the stairs. I threw my confidence over my shoulders, in the shape of a turquoise pashmina, and we headed to the wedding dance.

I’ve never been to a wedding dance before. I’m not sure why. Don’t we have them in NZ? I wasn’t really sure what to expect. Would it be like Four Weddings and a Funeral?

And most importantly, would Hugh Grant be there?

I’d carefully dressed us all, Son was looking Italian-Job smart in his suit, Miss 11 had a beautiful new dress and my Englishman? Well let’s face it he could wear a loin cloth and still pass. The bride was resplendent in a purple gown, flushed with excitement and no doubt relief that the formal part of the day had gone so well. Strawberry Munchkin was looking pretty in a cute little hat and veil and a gorgeous dress that fitted like a glove. I tried not to focus on my second hand dress, after all I had made an effort. It was just underneath. We made our way outside to mingle with intent and then….

…..I felt something ping. And then crumple down my leg.

I didn’t dare look. I maintain that if you don’t acknowledge the wardrobe malfunction neither will anyone else. Let me just say at this point manufacturers of ‘hold up stockings’ THEY DON’T BLOODY HOLD UP DO THEY!

I raced to the women’s loo and averted the crisis with a little geek-girl engineering involving lace on the basque and a cunning little suspender. Crisis averted! Back to chitchatting about cakes and dresses and children and the hen night, which a surprising number of people seemed to remember me from (Note to self, what did I do on the hen night? Rack primitive brain memory banks for remnants of wine-soaked night.)

An older woman dressed conservatively came up to join our little clique.

“Excuse me I just wondered if this belonged to anyone!”

I turned to look and as I took in the full horror of what she held between her fingers my face fried in the stage lights.

“Um, that’ll be mine!”

I snatched it quickly but too late, everyone was looking – my drinks’ companions, my husband, Strawberry Munchkin – all of them together were staring at what lay beneath my dress as they visually devoured the image of my missing-in-action little black and pink suspender.

Oh the shame. I always seem to make an impact don’t I?

Image:Flickr CC


'Wedding Suspense' has 10 comments

  1. May 31, 2011 @ 12:32 pm Stephen Blake

    This is why I wear braces to hold up my Y-fronts. I can now party with supreme confidence.


    • May 31, 2011 @ 12:57 pm Anonymous

      I could have guessed you were smartly turned out, no matter what! Do you have any thoughts on the mankini at all whilst we’re talking lingerie/underwear?


  2. May 31, 2011 @ 12:44 pm Expat Mum

    I had a similarly horrific story involving hold-ups that didn’t. My malfunction occured somewhere between the Strand and Charing Cross Station and involved sneaking into the Embankment gardens and hiding behind a bush to right the wrong. Oh the memory.


    • May 31, 2011 @ 12:59 pm Anonymous

      There used to be this horrendous ad on tv when I was a kid in NZ where the delightful child pointed over to her poor harrassed Mum and said loudly ‘there’s my Mummy the one with the baggy pantihose’ Oh the mortification! The moment the entire group collectively surveyed my skirt and stockings was one of those once in a lifetime special moments!


  3. June 1, 2011 @ 3:08 am Shirin

    I envy anyone managing to wear hold-ups even with a malfunction or two. I have tried in vain to wear them but alas my ‘thunder thighs’ prevent me from such pleasures!! Perhaps one day they will make hold-ups with proper stick ons for women like me.


    • June 1, 2011 @ 7:43 am Anonymous

      But I have friends who are pin thin and they also can’t keep hold ups UP.


  4. June 2, 2011 @ 8:03 am Sarah

    Oo you little vixen you! Love this saucy post!


    • June 4, 2011 @ 12:37 pm vix

      Thanks Sarah, funnily enough I can just imagine you doing much the same – except the losing the suspender bit! ;-p


  5. June 3, 2011 @ 8:10 pm aussiechick

    Hi, I like your blog. You write really well and post about interesting topics. I cannot understand why you are not doing better in the expat moms competition. The blogs in first and second place really don’t deserve to be there, but I guess its all a matter of self-promotion and personal taste. Anyway, just wanted to let you know that you are doing and awesome job. In an attempt to assert antipodean bloggers over all the Americans in this competition, I reckon you and jadeluxe should share voters and push the Petersons out of 1st place (the blog is mostly written by the dad anyway).  All the best.


    • June 4, 2011 @ 12:36 pm vix

      Sometimes a comment really hits you when you’re having a bit of a bloggy wobble, and your comment Aussiechick just came at exactly the right time. Thanks so much for your support. I’m not entirely certain why I’m not doing better on the list, maybe a lack of self-promotion? I was starting to worry that maybe I was missing my mark with the blog content. Were readers getting bored? So appreciate your comment, thanks very much. Vix xx


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