Vomitgate: The prequel

Being a bridesmaid is an honour. However it also commits you to spend the day in an outfit that you have not chosen and that breaks one of the first girl rules at any party: Never wear the same dress as someone else. Why does this suddenly become OK with bridesmaids? It also prevents me from wearing a top hat. I look awesome in a top hat! I spend weddings staring at the grooms-men with jealousy as they penguin suit it around the wedding, tipping their hats to whoever they like. I want to tip my hat at random people, I may even do the double guns. It's not lame when you're wearing a top hat.
Last year I was a bridesmaid for my sister. Luckily I got to wear a nice dress and occasionally steal my mums miniature top hat. The only thing I had to deal with was the armpit fat that occurs when you wear strapless. It squishes like a dead slug. It protrudes from your arms like a bald man forcing his head through a plastic bag. I already have 2 breasts, I don't need a miniature pair slipping out the sides of my dress. God damn strapless. However whilst this was the only thing I had to deal with at my sisters wedding, my brothers first wedding was a different story. The vomitgate story.
My brothers first wedding involved baubles, a Jabba-whale and me clinging to a toilet like I had spilt super glue. I was of course glad to be in the wedding but my enthusiasm turned sour upon the sight of the bridesmaid dresses.
I can understand making your own bridesmaid dresses when money is tight. However I will never understand looking at cheap, stiff, gold net curtain and thinking 'That will look so pretty'. No it wont look pretty, what it will do is scratch my thighs, causing me to look like I have crabs that have migrated down my legs.
I can understand that a subtle gold at a Winter/Christmas wedding may look quite good. However I will never understand looking at the plastic baubles in the 99p store and thinking 'That will look so pretty'. No it wont look pretty, what it will do is make me look like a plastic bauble from a 99p store.
As stated these dresses were being made. They were in fact being made but what can only be described as the illegal offspring of when Jabba the Hut attempted bestiality. My brothers soon to be mother-in-law. This made the whole process of being fitted for the dress absolutely terrifying for me. This was almost 8 years ago. I was tiny. Every time she moved I grabbed hold of something quick for fear of dying in post-quake tremors. However I bravely stood upon the stool whilst Jabba-whale wrapped me in plastic bauble material. As I looked down at the material I started to feel very warm. Maybe if I was allergic to it I could wear my jeans instead. Then I started to get the same feeling as I would in a few years on my boyfriends porch. As I explained to Jabba-whale I felt sick she ordered me to stay in place. One look down at the bestiality child, the metallic, crab crawling material reflected on her face and my mouth filled with chunks. I at least made it to the bathroom floor amid screams of 'Don't you dare get vomit on that beautiful dress'. It was a good job that the chunks forcing their way past my throat prevented me from making a witty come back. Vomitgate made it's opening all over the Jabba-whales bathroom floor and the bauble-crab dress. Unfortunately it was fine by the day of the wedding, however I had full blown flu and spent the day looking like a ghost Christmas tree.
So now my brother is getting married again. Emma I make this pledge to you: There will NOT be a vomitgate returned.