When Michael and I got engaged, my cousin Sarah offered to sew my wedding dress as a gift. But at the final fitting, I discovered the dress was two sizes too small. Was Sarah going to fix it, or would I have to take matters into my own hands?
Sarah and I have always had a rocky relationship. She’s loud, bubbly, and loves being the center of attention. Our family tended to give her that spotlight — it was just easier to let her have it than compete.
When Michael and I got engaged after four years together, my family was genuinely excited.
Sarah even organized a girls’ night out with my cousins and friends, celebrating me as the first in our group to get engaged. The party ended at an Airbnb, keeping the celebration going late into the night.
During the festivities, Sarah approached me, glass of champagne in hand.
“Jess! I have an amazing idea!” she said, swaying to the music.
“What?” I asked, curious.
“I want to make your wedding dress!” she exclaimed.
Sarah is a talented seamstress, with some incredible work under her belt despite her young career. Despite our tense relationship, having her make my dress felt like a lovely gesture.
“Really? You’d do that for me?” I asked, touched.
“Of course, Jess! It’ll be perfect!” she smiled, seeming sincere.
The rest of the night went smoothly. Surrounded by loved ones, it felt good that Sarah wanted to do something so personal.
We spent weeks choosing patterns and fabrics. After poring over magazines and blogs, I finally picked a design.
One day, I went to Sarah’s studio for my final measurements.
“You’re going to look stunning,” she said as she took precise measurements and jotted notes.
I sipped my coffee and said, “I hope so. I’ve stuck to a strict diet and finally feel good about my weight. Now I just need to maintain.”
“You look great, Jess,” she said. “If anything changes, just let me know and we can do another fitting.”
Excited, I left eager to see the dress.
But at the final fitting, disaster struck.
The dress was way too small. No matter how hard I held my breath, I couldn’t zip it up.
“Jess! Are you crazy gaining weight before the wedding?” Sarah asked, her concern dripping with sarcasm.
My heart broke. The wedding was two weeks away, and this dress wasn’t going to work.
“I haven’t gained any weight,” I told her. “I’ve been too stressed to eat. If anything, I should have lost weight.”
Sarah shrugged, barely hiding a smug grin.
Despite the looming deadline, I was determined to fix this. But Sarah warned, “I have other clients waiting, Jess.”
Driving away, it hit me — this wasn’t a mistake. The way she spoke, the tone in her voice… Sarah had made the dress too small on purpose.
That night, I told Michael, “I don’t know what to do.”
He grabbed a glass of water and said, “Show me the dress.”
“No way! It’s a disaster!” I cried. “You shouldn’t even look at it!”
Michael suggested, “Why not take it to Mrs. Lawson? She does all my mom’s alterations, and she’s making Mom’s wedding dress too.”
So, clutching the ill-fitting dress, I went to Mrs. Lawson — a retired tailor renowned for her magic with difficult repairs.
“Oh, honey,” she said warmly. “Michael told me everything. But I’ve fixed worse than this many times.”
I showed her the dress. “This could be tricky,” I warned.
“Trust me,” she laughed. “Let’s make it work.”
Together, we transformed the original design into something completely different: a chic, short party dress — daring and edgy, but beautiful. It was fun, flirty, and exactly right for me — everything Sarah’s dress wasn’t.
On my wedding day, standing in front of the mirror in the bridal suite, I felt radiant and confident.
My dad’s jaw dropped when he came to get me.
“My darling, you look amazing! Wow!” he said.
“Thanks,” I smiled. “It’s not what we all expected, but it was the best surprise. I feel like a bride.”
“That’s all that matters,” he told me.
As my arrival music — a classical Lana Del Rey cover — filled the room, I felt chills. Guests watched as I walked down the aisle, and I could feel their admiration.
When I reached Michael, his eyes lit up, and he smiled. In that moment, I knew he loved me more than ever.
I glanced at Sarah. Her face was pale and shocked — clearly expecting to see me upset and wearing her terrible dress.
Instead, I was glowing and beaming.
The ceremony went perfectly. Michael’s vows moved me to tears, and I fell even deeper in love.
Then came the reception.
While Michael and I chatted with friends, Sarah slipped up behind me.
“Where’s the dress, Jess? My original design?” she asked, trying to mask her confusion.
I laughed.
“Oh, I just thought I could improve your outline! Honestly, I was about to burst in that thing — it was at least two sizes too small.”
“That’s it? You threw away all my hard work?” Sarah gasped. “That’s awful!”
“No, Sarah,” I said. “This dress was built on your work. But Mrs. Lawson fixed it so I’d feel beautiful on my wedding day — it’s a hundred times better.”
Sarah opened her mouth but had nothing to say. Guests kept complimenting my unique and stunning dress.
She had no choice but to watch.
Michael called out, “Come on, love! Let’s do our first dance before I hit the buffet. Can’t stop thinking about that roast beef!”
I smiled, feeling happy for the first time that day.
“I’m coming.”
What would you have done?