I was duly informed today that I have no sense of style.

Well, that actually isn't the problem. You see, I do have a sense of style. It's just different from everyone else's.

I've been trying to come up with a coherent image of what I want my wedding gown to look like. I can look at pictures in ads and stuff and say, "I like that waistline," or "That skirt is really pretty." But when I try to piece all those bits together in my head, I can't.

Plus, it's all a little overwhelming... All the possible things that could go into a dress. I think we're going to have to actually put me in some dresses to see what I look good in. I'm almost set on a certain type of waist, but my sister thinks it'll make me look fat.

Heh.

I went over to Min's today so that she could look through my magazines. She oohed and aahed over all the dresses, and kept showing me dresses that I thought were absolutely hideous.

"You know what your problem is?" she asked.

"No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me all about it," I said.

"I'll tell you what your problem is. Every other little girl in America has been planning her wedding since she was 6. By the time they actually get engaged, they know exactly what kind of dress she wants, what her colors are going to be, what the cake will look like..." She shook her head. "You, on the other hand, were too busy playing with your Star Wars toys."

"I played with girl toys too," I said, a bit defensively.

"No... You used my Barbies as giant alien women from the planet Mattel that your space guys had to defeat. Luke Skywalker made his tauntaun gore Skipper, and you had Darth Vader use the Force to rip Ken's head off."

She's right. I did.

A few minutes later, I said, "Wait a minute. I had a Barbie of my own, and she had a wedding dress. She got married all the time."

"Yeah, and you never gave her a proper divorce hearing. You just threw her into wedding after wedding. You made her a polygamist or... something." Min snorted. "Besides, she always married one of your stuffed animals."

"But I didn't have a Ken doll."

"You could have borrowed mine, rather than letting Barbie marry a polar bear. There's laws against that in most states, you know." She waved her hands around, aghast at the atrocities I committed the hapless fashion doll. "And Obi-Wan Kenobi always gave Barbie away."

"He was the oldest guy I had."

"He only came up to her knees!"

"Barbie had gia- ... eleph- ... that disease that makes you really tall."

"Barbie is not diseased!" Min screeched.

"Mine was!"

We're, like, adults and stuff. Really.

A few minutes later, Min paused in leafing through a magazine and said, "Anyway, that's why you don't know what you're doing."

I suppose she's right.