You can't take me anywhere.

I will tell people EVERYONE should bring a bottle of champagne to the mother-of-the-groom hair and makeup appointment. And then I will convince one of said friends to squat on the sidewalk and ask another said friend to pour some champagne on the sidewalk underneath her.

One of my bestie’s sweet daughters is getting married in the next month. I’ve known the bride since she was a little nugget of 7 or so, back when she was really into Bratz dolls. It’s important that I not ruin her special day and support my bestie, so I need to be cool for a change. It’s not about me. (Repeats to self 10,000 times before the wedding.)

While I can occasionally put an outfit together, I’m typically the person with the black bar over her eyes in Vogue. That’s right, I’m the Fashion Don’t. When my kids were in elementary school I’d assure the other moms at Kindergarten Round-up that they were in a safe space - my role in that school was to show up in concert t-shirts and sweats, so I was the bar they should aspire to rise above. I considered this Community Service.

So, back to the wedding. I spent a few weeks actively ignoring the dress code. I was sure to have SOMETHING in my closet, right? But then I realized I was going to both the rehearsal dinner, which is cocktail attire, AND the wedding. Game over, FD.

I did something really nutty for me - I went to Rent the Runway. (Full disclosure, I don’t know a SOUL at RTR, so if you know someone, tell them to Venmo me for this shout-out.) It was easier than I thought and God Bless You one and all to the reviewers who leave super-honest reviews. AND they let you order two sizes in the dress in case you accidentally hit an all-you-can-eat taco bar the night before the event.

They’re all pretty, but can we talk about Disco Sunglasses in the lower-right floral dress? I almost picked that dress just to see if it came with a bag of coke and a BeeGee.

While discerning my choices, no shit, I got this pop-up ad:

I need to remember to block the camera on my laptop when I’m in the house. Shamed, I decided I need something a little…roomier. And to throw away my turquoise underwear.

Let’s be honest, there is NO WAY I’m wearing shapewear because when I have the inevitable hot flash that will result in swamp ass in my rented dress I will have nowhere to go like Richard Gere in the movie classic, “An Officer and a Gentleman”. Hard pass. I need something black, patterned, has an adjustable waist, open pits and perhaps a pocket for Tums and snacks.

I am positive I’ll end up looking exactly like the model, who is presumably 6’1” 120 pounds and a size 0. But for every other woman who rents this dress from a size zero to 12? I am setting the bar low FOR YOU. Because I’m a giver like that.

‘Til death do us part, Wifers.