In case you haven’t read the first part of this story, I’ll start with the same disclaimer: this is not a joke. This actually happened to me.

If you haven’t, go read that first post. It’s important for context and I’m 100% sure that you will laugh at my misery. It’s ok. I would if I was you.

This isn’t a joke. It was March 14th 2020, my wedding was supposed to be in 2 months, we were living a f*cking full fledged pandemic, I was starting a post graduate program along with a new full time job, so I needed something to provide me with the stress I was clearly lacking. I guess a missing wedding dress would do it.

I’m not a cheap bride. I wasn’t looking for a deal. I got my dress at a respectable, well rated store. Well. That store was sold at the end of last year. And the new owner is, for the lack of a better word, hum, ratchet.