Did You Have A Wedding Wardrobe Malfunction?

Illustration for article titled Did You Have A Wedding Wardrobe Malfunction?

Welcome to Pop The Question, a weekly space to dissect every aspect of wedding madness. Each Tuesday, we'll ask a question (sometimes there might even be a poll!), you'll share answers and stories, and then we'll bring you the best of the bunch on Thursdays. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll fly into a total rage over something that doesn't actually matter … it will be just like your wedding day.


You know how it goes: Sometimes you pop the question, and sometimes the question pops you. This week, a question was popped at me (occupational hazard) by a bride-to-be who discovered a smudge on her white satin wedding shoes and wanted to know how to get them clean. From that question springs this week's group discussion topic: Tell us about your wedding wardrobe malfunctions!

Did someone spill red wine down your white dress? Did your stress-related weight loss lead to a nip slip? Did Uncle Ron step on your dress during the Chicken Dance and tear the hem?

But why limit the fun to brides? Did your mother-in-law process with her dress tucked up into her pantyhose? Did cousin Albert vomit down his shirtfront at the reception? Which bridesmaid forgot a bra?

I can even join in the fun this week, because my wedding dress broke while I was wearing it. It was actually not a big deal at all, one of the straps popped during our reception—so, after the photos were taken #priorities—a girlfriend pinned it back in place and poured me more limoncello.

Your turn! Tell us everything and we'll return to this space on Thursday to cringe our way through the best of the worst.

Image via RantLifestyle.

Contact the author at jolie@deadspin.com.


Dorothy Zbornak

Thankfully this was *before* I got ready, but it was humiliating. I was a ball of nerves on my wedding day (aren't we all?) and had only coffee in my system during my hair appointment. One of my bridesmaids drove with me to my parents' house where I was getting ready, and I let one slip. Only it wasn't just a cute little gas situation. It was a full-on shart. A 33-year-old grown ass woman sharting up her favorite pair of purple undies.

My amazing mom helped me clean them and handwashed them since the only other undies I had were the blue ones I wore under my wedding dress and I was so afraid of sharting more, I didn't put them on until right before I put on my dress. All of my after clothes were at our hotel so the only thing to save my jeans until then were a really old pair of my mom's underwear.

(I want to apologize also, for using the word shart so damn much, but this felt good to get off my chest.)