So, I’m shopping for an MOG dress. (‘Member? I told y’all my son is getting married in January.) One of the very first questions posed by my future DIL was, “You are going to wear a dress to the wedding, right?” Up until that moment, I hadn’t realized my aversion to dresses was so obvious. I assured my son’s lovely fiancee that I would, indeed, wear a dress to the nuptials. This was on Christmas Day of 2012.

On New Year’s Day of 2013, I resolved to:

1. pick a color that is in keeping with the theme of the wedding but not too matchy-matchy.
2. lose a ton of weight.
3. get breast reduction surgery.
4. consult a professional to tell me what style is most flattering for my…<cough>…full figure.
5. choose a hairstyle that will stay put, even after I’ve had a few glasses of wine and become slightly sweaty.
6. purchase said dress in enough time to have it altered to fit my newly acquired sexy body gleaned from healthy eating and exercise.

Fast forward 10.5 months. It’s NOW, and I’ve accomplished most of my list. And by “most,” I mean…#1 and #4.

I’m not sure if y’all know this, but MOG dresses do not exist. MOB dresses? All over the place. Apparently, the MOG is a non-entity in the wedding industry. Just as well, because every MOB dress I’ve seen looks lovely on the svelte Christie Brinkley look-alike who models said dress and horrifying on me. It seems that MOB/MOG dresses are designed to fit two types of women.

You’ve got the fussy, jacketed dresses best suited for old biddies at the Atlanta bazaar:

Old Guard

Oh dear! Where are my smelling salts?

And then you’ve got the slutty MOB/MOG dresses worn by women whose sole purpose of attending their child’s wedding is to get drunk, laid, or both.

Sexy MOB

Where would my boobs go? And um…all my fat?

I fall directly in the center of the two categories, dear reader. I do not wish to look as if I am barreling down the aisle like a giant aircraft carrier or middle linebacker for the Dallas Cowboys. Alternately, even if I possessed the hardbody of a supermodel with lithe, coltish legs and tiny breasts, I personally feel it is uncouth for the Mom to wear a garment that elicits a chubby from the officiant of the ceremony.

I want to look pretty, fresh, not so much young as youthful, perhaps. I want to move in my dress. I want to eat and drink in my dress.  I pinned an entire board full of MOG fashion, y’all. Then, I ventured out to find a dress somewhere in the middle of said spectrum. I found gowns with the perfect skirt and a too-fussy bodice. I found some with an elegant bodice whose skirt was far too short. I found dresses that looked gorgeous but would be stifling and uncomfortable to wear for the entire evening. Did I mention the other thing I want in an MOG dress? Breathing normally. Yeah. That’s on my list, too.

Fortunately for me, my old college buddy and her cousin own an awesome studio where they design and execute beautiful gowns. These two chicks are funny, smart, and oh, so savvy about the female form. They aren’t afraid of my boobs, which is, let’s be real, a HUGE plus. I’m excited that they “get” me. I’m excited that I am finally feeling confident about this MOG dress. Mostly, I’m excited that when I strip down for fitting, I’m with friends.

Shout out out to Jenn and Gloria of Castillo-Garcia Design Studio. YOU ROCK!