I would think that if you tried to sell an unworn wedding dress with a wildly depressing description—which is actually written from the dress’s perspective—you might have a hard time finding a buyer.
But I’m wrong: After her wedding was called off, a would-be bride is now selling a white lace Diane von Furstenburg cocktail dress on eBay under the listing Rejected wedding dress seeks lasting love and holy matrimony. (Gahhh.) The listing has received so much attention—because the idea of an unwanted wedding dress selling itself is as pathetic as a scraggly shelter dog taking to the streets to find a forever home—that it has received dozens of bids.
Because if I have to read this sad shit, so do you, here’s the full listing:
I was supposed to be worn at City Hall in New York.
I was going to be the main attraction of a 60s wedding theme.
I was going to be low-key, but elegant (I still am, for that matter).
I was going to complement a 60s updo, nude courts and a bouquet of Lily of the Valley.
When my owner put on a dress just like me in Selfridges, she knew I was the one so she ordered me online and had me delivered to her husband-to-be in Brooklyn.
I’m not over the top, nor am I too dressed down, and she thought she could perhaps wear me to other occasions in the future.
She thought I was a dress she could look back on and smile, not cringe at fashion faux pas (she was right).
When I arrived, she kept me sealed in my box so nothing could ruin me.
Then they split up.
And she kept me in the box.
Because she couldn’t bear to look at me.
I am a constant reminder to her of what could have been.
So she wants to sell me.
Not necessarily to a bride, but to anyone looking to give me the home I deserve.
A home where I’ll get worn and admired and dry-cleaned (as and when necessary).
She can’t take me back to DVF because they no longer stock me.
I’m limited edition, if you like.
And the first time I have been taken out of my box is for these photos.
Because who’s going to buy a dress based on a picture of a box?
I can’t wait to be worn by you (and to see the back of my cardboard confines once and for all).
Zarita (in Ivory).
“A constant reminder [...] of what could’ve been.” And thanks to you, Zarita, chances are the buyer will be constantly reminded as well. How could anyone ever wear this dress without remembering, however momentarily, this pitiful listing? How can you slip into this lovely garment without hearing it woefully whisper to you? It’s easy to be haunted by ghosts when you found them on eBay talking right at you.
Contact the author at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Image via eBay.