Gosh. I’m experiencing one of my adventures in overwhelm currently. Never a good ride. Today encapsulated the most despondent I’ve been in the wedding planning journey to date and I’m trying not only to process it all, but to decide what my next course of action should be.

Today was the day I’d made appointments at the suit shop for Martin and the Manchild to be measured for custom made wedding suits. Even coordinating an appointment day around one’s weird shifts and the other’s two jobs had been a challenge. This appointment was booked weeks ago. So I was seriously unimpressed when the young woman in the shop seemed not to be expecting us and told us we’d have to wait as they were busy and behind schedule.

Although her attitude stank, I remained polite and we hovered awkwardly while she attended her customer in the fitting room. To be fair she wasn’t ages, but we were getting increasingly stressed. The Manchild was visibly unhappy about wasting his afternoon. Martin was simmering away – like a volcano readying itself for full on eruption. And then there was me. Already rattled by the saleswoman’s brusque attitude, anxious, socially awkward, and well and truly out of my depth.

Finally she gave us her undivided attention. Firing question after question at me about what I wanted. It wasn’t at all how I expected a consultation to be. I thought we would be guided through the process step by step. She dropped the bombshell that they wouldn’t be able to order Martin’s suit as she had nothing in store large enough for him to try on as a baseline.

I was cringing at this point, because I know how sensitive he is about his weight. The woman left me with a shedload of fabric swatches, although I already knew what fabric I wanted. I was in the process of picking out a lining, but Martin and I were not agreeing and I struggled when he basically said I should just tell him what he was having, as that’s definitely not my style. The woman disappeared again for so long, and I was so agitated by this time, I actually asked the guys if we could just walk out. We didn’t, but when on her return she asked me a second time if we would be making the purchases today, I’m afraid we did tell her we were going. What would be the point of committing to a suit for the boy, when we’d had no assurances that it would be possible to supply a suit in Martin’s size too?

We sent the Manchild on his way and I apologised for wasting his time. Although it wasn’t my fault, I felt responsible, and the next time we have to do this all again from scratch, that is what he’ll remember and will probably be even less enthusiastic about the whole affair.

Martin and I wandered to another gentleman’s outfitters, as we were already in the town. We were warmly greeted by an old school sales consultant, quite possibly the store manager. Although he wasn’t able to help us, his customer service skills at least restored my faith a little, and he suggested a couple of other places we could try.

We walked back to the car in sullen silence. How could ordering made-to-measure suits have gone so wrong? I thought I was desolate when we were struggling to negotiate what we wanted from our wedding venue, but today was an all time low. This had rocked Martin’s already fragile self confidence and I hated not knowing the best thing to say, or even what to suggest as a solution going forward. I felt impotent and also as a empath, I took on board some of the hurt he was experiencing.

Very differently to when I was married before, this time around, I, as a plus size bride, was able to walk into a shop, and have my pick of a selection of beautiful gowns. Even if I’d been significantly larger than I am, that still would have been the reality. So how is it, that larger sized guys can’t walk into a shop, seeking a wedding suit, be treated with dignity, and be able to buy what they desire? I was willing to buy ‘to order’ because I appreciate the shop don’t stock Martin’s size, but I have no desire to spend my money in that particular store. Possibly not the company as a whole.

It really didn’t help that there was a customer in the shop while we were there who was collecting an item for a wedding tomorrow (he told us he was the best man) that had been missed from his original order, and when he tried it on, it had been ordered in the wrong size. He told us in no uncertain terms we shouldn’t shop there, the service had been shocking. Hope he found a shirt in time.

I guess with the time of year, between my wedding anniversary and my late husband’s birthday, I’m probably feeling even more emotional than usual. The tears are randomly falling. I keep thinking I’ve upset Martin and he keeps thinking he’s upset me. But in reality we’re just upset. Today was soul destroying.

But I guess tomorrow’s another day.