I got the best news today. At work, my colleague told me she had a proposition. Already, I was slightly curious but also wary that she was going to ask me to cover a shift in Reception. Yuck.
But no, this was MUCH more exciting. Her friend is having a wedding fayre and they’re looking for wedding dress models. She casually asked if I would be interested at which point I almost snapped her hand off.
Me. Modelling. Wedding dresses. OH MY SWEET LORD! It’s a dream come true.
See, we all have an inner alter-ego; the person we would like to become were we tall / talented / clever enough. Mine is a 6ft, leggy supermodel. Sadly, being a stumpy 5ft 3 means that I would never get a chance to grace a catwalk. Until today when this fabulous opportunity landed in my lap.
Now, I’m not saying it’ll be like Carrie Bradshaw’s moment (above) when she gets to strut in a pair of sequined D&G knickers and killer heels. There probably won’t even be a catwalk but I do get to wear wedding dresses all day, I get to be centre of attention and I might even bag myself some freebies while I’m at it or at least garner some ideas as to how I would like my own wedding dress to look.
I’m dying with excitement. Let’s just hope it’s not exactly like Carrie Bradshaw’s moment and I wind up flying arse-over-tit in an enormous meringue.
And as for my colleague asking me to help out, I’ll do shifts in Reception to the end of time in gratitude.