There’s a programme on BBC 3 that I watch occasionally – Snog, Marry, Avoid. From the title, I think you can tell that this one probably isn’t high up there in the intellectually challenging stakes, but if you want 30 minutes of easy distraction…
In the programme, a member of the public (usually female) is paraded in front of the opposite sex and they rate her attractiveness according to whether they would ‘snog’, ‘marry’ or ‘avoid’ her.
Putting aside my qualms about the over emphasis of female appearance and wondering why the girls don’t just say, ‘why should we care about a random stranger’s opinion of how we look?’*, the subsequent make-under of those taking part usually involves toning down fake tan and make-up, dressing the girls in clothing which displays a little less flesh and banishing false eyelashes and hair.
Inevitably they look better and all of their friends prefer the new under-stated appearance but often the revisit bit of the programme at the end shows the girls reverting back to their tan-tastic, over eye-lashed and skimpily clothed selves.
Anyway, the point of all my reality TV musings here is that like the Snog, Marry, Avoid girls who are unconvinced by their make-under, my two-dress dilemma is still taking up room in my head.
As previously blogged, I tried on a number of dresses at the brilliant Dragonfly Designs. I liked the first dress best when I tried it on. Everyone else liked another choice. I looked at the pictures afterwards and thought, ‘ah, they were right to prefer that one’. Then, my sister sent me a picture she had taken of the first dress. My mind wobbled once more.
I showed the pictures to a number of other people – a colleague, my aunt, my mum’s best friend, my sister and brother-in-law, the Power plate guy and various others. With one exception, everyone plumped for the dress my mum, sisters and friend had liked. It appears that I can’t tell what I look like at all. [Does this mean I ought to take four people out with me every time I buy clothing? That could prove logistically tricky.]
Inside my head, the ‘it’s my wedding I should wear WHAT I WANT’ voice battled with the ‘so much public opinion can’t be wrong, hmm?’ sentiment. I hmm-ed and haw-ed for a few days before coming down in favour of public opinion**.
*In another life, I will only watch programmes that are worthwhile and of good moral standing.
**I toyed with the idea of picturing dress 2 here, but thought I ought to stick with tradition and keep it under wraps, sorry!