My Cousin Intentionally Sewed My Wedding Dress 2 Sizes Smaller – She Was Shocked When She Saw What I Did with It

When Jess and Michael get engaged, her cousin Sarah decided to sew her wedding dress for her as a gift. But during the final fitting, Jess discovers that the wedding dress is two sizes too small. Will Sarah fix her error, or will Jess have to take things into her own hands?

My cousin Sarah and I have always had a complicated relationship. She’s loud and bubbly, but also the type of person who craves the spotlight. And because of that, our entire family gave her the attention she wanted. It made more sense to shine the spotlight on Sarah, rather than ourselves.

When Michael and I got engaged after being together for four years, my whole family seemed genuinely excited for me.

A couple standing together | Source: Midjourney

A couple standing together | Source: Midjourney

Sarah even got all of our girl cousins together, along with my best friends, for a night out. Ending in an Airbnb where we continued the party, because I was the first of us to get engaged.

During that night out, Sarah came up to me, a glass of champagne in her hand.

“Jess! I have a great idea!” she said.

A smiling woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney

“What?” I asked. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to make your wedding dress for you!” she exclaimed, swaying to the music as she spoke.

Now, Sarah is a brilliant seamstress, and she’s made some incredible outfits in her young career so far. Despite our complicated relationship, the thought of Sarah making a dress for me was actually a lovely idea.

A woman working as a seamstress | Source: Midjourney

A woman working as a seamstress | Source: Midjourney

“Really? You’d do that for me?” I asked, touched by the gesture.

“Of course, Jess! It’ll be perfect!” she replied with a smile that seemed nothing but sincere at the time.

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. I was surrounded by the people who loved me, and even more, my cousin wanted to do something so intimate by making me a wedding dress.

Smiling women at a party | Source: Midjourney

Smiling women at a party | Source: Midjourney

Everything felt right.

We spent weeks choosing the design and fabrics. We pored over the magazines and websites, and finally, I had an idea in mind.

One day, I met Sarah at her office, ready to take my final measurements so that she could start with my dress.

“You’re going to look amazing,” she said, taking my measurements precisely, jotting down everything carefully on her writing pad.

The office of a seamstress | Source: Midjourney

The office of a seamstress | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, I hope so,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee as Sarah put her measuring tape away. “I’ve been on a strict diet, and I’m finally happy with my weight. So, it’s just about maintaining my figure now.”

“You look good, Jess,” she said. “But if anything changes and you find yourself losing or gaining weight, just let me know, and you can come in for another fitting.”

I nodded and left, eager to see how my dress was going to turn out.

But when I went for the final fitting, things took a turn.

A garment bag on a hanger | Source: Midjourney

A garment bag on a hanger | Source: Midjourney

I slipped into the dress, but something was wrong—it was way too small. I couldn’t even zip it up, no matter how hard I sucked in my breath.

“Jess! Are you crazy to gain weight before the wedding?” Sarah asked, her tone dripping with mock concern.

My heart sank. We were two weeks away from the wedding, and judging from this fitting, I didn’t have a dress.

A shocked young woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked young woman | Source: Midjourney

“I haven’t gained any weight, Sarah,” I replied. “I’ve been too stressed to eat. If anything, I should have lost weight because of that!”

Sarah shrugged, barely concealing a smirk that was plastered onto her face.

“Well, I’ll try to fix it, but with the wedding so close, I can’t make any promises. I have other clients waiting for their orders, too, Jess.”

A nonchalant woman | Source: Midjourney

A nonchalant woman | Source: Midjourney

Her words rang loud and clear in my head as I drove away from her office.

And then it hit me — this wasn’t an accident. I recalled the way she spoke to me, and the tone in her voice. There was no remorse in her mistake. There was no mix-up in measurements. There was no weight gain with me.

This was deliberate, and Sarah had made the dress too small on purpose.

“I don’t know what to do,” I told Michael when he got home that evening.

A couple talking in their kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A couple talking in their kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“Show me the dress?” he asked, pouring himself a glass of water.

“What! No!” I exclaimed. “The dress may be a mess, but it’s bad luck for you to see!”

“Look, why don’t you take the dress to Mrs. Lawson? She’s my mom’s friend, and she does all her alterations. She’s making Mom’s dress for the wedding, too.”

An older seamstress | Source: Midjourney

An older seamstress | Source: Midjourney

So, I gathered the awful dress and went to Mrs. Lawson, who was a retired seamstress with a reputation for miracles.

“Oh, honey,” she said when I walked in. “Michael phoned me and told me all about the mess. But I’ve seen the worst and made it a hundred times better.”

“This might be tricky, though,” I said, showing her the dress.

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

“Honey, I’ve seen it all, trust me. Let’s make this work,” she chuckled.

Together, we transformed the original design into something completely new. A chic, short, cocktail-style dress that was bold, unconventional, and a bit edgy for a wedding.

But it was absolutely stunning. It was everything Sarah’s dress wasn’t: fun, flirty, and perfectly me.

A wedding dress on a hanger | Source: Midjourney

A wedding dress on a hanger | Source: Midjourney

When it was time to walk down the aisle, my heart raced. I stood in the bridal suite of the wedding venue and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked beautiful. I felt beautiful.

As my dad walked into the room to get me, his jaw dropped.

“My darling,” he said. “You look incredible! Wow!”

A close up of a bride | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a bride | Source: Midjourney

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I know it’s not what we all envisioned me wearing for my wedding, but it’s been the best surprise. I feel like a bride.”

“That’s the only thing that matters, darling,” he said.

Soon, my entrance music began, and goosebumps appeared all over my body as a classical version of a Lana Del Rey song took over the room.

Heads turned.

A smiling father-of-the-bride | Source: Midjourney

A smiling father-of-the-bride | Source: Midjourney

And I felt the buzz of admiration follow me as people watched me walk in. I knew that my dress was a hit.

When I got closer to Michael, his eyes widened, and his smile took over his face. I knew then that the man I was about to marry fell in love with me all over again.

But before I took my place next to Michael, I turned to Sarah, wanting to see her expression first.

A groom standing at the altar | Source: Midjourney

A groom standing at the altar | Source: Midjourney

Her face was priceless: she was pale and shocked. I knew she had expected to see me in tears, humiliated by her sabotage and wearing that horrible dress she had designed.

Instead, I was glowing, smiling from ear to ear.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, Michael’s vows leaving me in tears and my heart full of love for the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

A bride with tears in her eyes | Source: Midjourney

A bride with tears in her eyes | Source: Midjourney

But then came the reception.

Michael and I were mingling with our guests when Sarah cornered me.

“Jess, what happened to the dress? Where’s my original design? Why did you change it?” she asked, trying to hide her confusion.

I grinned.

A close up of an annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of an annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, I thought I’d take your design and make it better! Remember, you weren’t even sure that you could do anything about it. And I was bursting out of it because it was at least two sizes too small.”

“So, that’s it? You just threw away my hard work?” she gasped. “That’s low!”

“No, Sarah, your work is the foundation of this dress. It’s just a hundred times better because the woman who fixed it wanted me to look and feel beautiful on my wedding day.”

A close up of an annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of an annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Around us, guests kept complimenting my dress, calling it unique and stunning.

Sarah had no choice but to stand there and listen.

“Come on, love,” Michael called to me. “Let’s do our first dance so that I can really get into the buffet after! The roast beef is to die for!”

“I’m coming,” I smiled, finally happy.

A couple standing at a wedding buffet | Source: Midjourney

A couple standing at a wedding buffet | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:

I Asked My Grandmother to Walk Down the Aisle at My Wedding — My Family Demands That I Apologize for It

Just days before her wedding, Leah discovers that her grandmother didn’t have a wedding. Unable to sleep due to her grandmother having missed her opportunity, Leah wants her grandparents to have their moment and walk down the aisle. Instead of it playing out as Leah plans, she has to deal with a grandmother in a wedding dress, an embarrassed grandfather, and livid family members. Did she ruin her own wedding just to give her grandmother a memory?

“Tell me about your wedding, Gran,” I asked, rocking back and forth on the porch swing. The night was quiet, and we were a week away from my wedding.

A person sitting on a porch swing | Source: Midjourney

A person sitting on a porch swing | Source: Midjourney

All I wanted to do was soak up the time I had left with my grandmother because once we were married, Nate and I would be moving away.

“Oh, honey, there wasn’t really a wedding. Your grandfather always promised, but it never happened,” she smiled, her eyes distant.

A smiling old woman |  Source: Pexels

A smiling old woman | Source: Pexels

“Never?” I asked, frowning.

My grandmother shook her head.

“No. He didn’t even propose, Leah,” she said. “He always said that we’d get around to it eventually, but life just kept getting in the way. We raised our kids, took care of the house, and before I knew it, decades had passed.”

A woman washing dishes | Source: Unsplash

A woman washing dishes | Source: Unsplash

“But you are married, right?” I asked, trying to understand why my grandmother’s words felt like such a blow to me.

“Married, yes. Your grandfather took me down to the courthouse, and we signed away our single lives. He didn’t ask me; he just said that it was going to happen. And it did.”

The exterior of a court house | Source: Unsplash

The exterior of a court house | Source: Unsplash

My heart ached for her.

“But you wanted one, right? A wedding, I mean,” I pressed.

Her smile was wistful.

“I did, but I let go of that dream a long time ago. Now, come on, I’ll make you some hot chocolate before you leave.”

Two mugs of hot chocolate | Source: Midjourney

Two mugs of hot chocolate | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Our Stepdad Gifted My Mom a Pack of Toilet Paper for Her Birthday — Our Revenge on Him Was Harsh

My stepdad always made a big deal about being the “man of the house,” but when his “special gift” for my mom’s birthday turned out to be a pack of toilet paper, I decided it was time for payback. And let’s just say someone else ended up desperately needing that present.

My stepfather, Jeff, loved reminding us he was the breadwinner of the house throughout our entire childhood. Anytime we sat down to dinner, he’d start with his usual spiel.

A man lauhing at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

A man lauhing at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

“You’re lucky I keep this roof over your heads,” he’d say and chortle. He also said it all the time while leaning back on his worn-out recliner. It was his favorite thing in the world.

My mom, Jane, always nodded along. She was the kind of woman who avoided conflict at any cost. She wasn’t raised in the 1950s, but her upbringing had been different from ours. Staying quiet had become almost an art form for her.

As her kids, my siblings (Chloe, Lily, and Anthony) and I could see that she desperately wanted to speak up but didn’t. Meanwhile, we surely didn’t consider him “the king of the castle” or a “real man,” which were other phrases Jeff used to describe himself.

A woman at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

A woman at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

Yes, he paid all the bills while we were growing up, and we were thankful. But that wasn’t an excuse to treat our mother like a servant and think he was better than the rest of us.

We had tried for years to get Mom to leave him to no avail.

Eventually, we all moved out of their house as we reached adulthood, but my sisters and I continued to visit Mom often. Anthony lived on the other side of the country, but he checked in every other day.

A man on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A man on the phone | Source: Midjourney

Still, we worried about her.

I felt that our visits weren’t enough to truly know what was going on in that house. I often sat alone in my apartment and wondered if Mom would ever leave this man and if there was something he could do to finally make her snap out of her proverbial shackles.

Yes, this is where it gets good.

This year, Jeff simply went too far. For days leading up to Mom’s birthday, he wouldn’t stop bragging about the “special gift” he’d picked out for her.

A man on a reclining chair | Source: Midjourney

A man on a reclining chair | Source: Midjourney

“This one’s going to knock her socks off,” he said over dinner at their house, grinning like a buffoon.

I wanted to believe him. Maybe he had finally decided to treat her with the respect she deserved. But deep down, I knew better. Jeff was Jeff, and people like him never changed.

My mom’s birthday arrived, and of course, my sisters and I were there, sitting in the living room. Jeff had a twinkle in his eyes, and I knew Mom had hope in hers.

Three sisters with presents in their hands | Source: Midjourney

Three sisters with presents in their hands | Source: Midjourney

After she opened our presents, my stepdad handed her a huge, beautifully wrapped package. He was smiling, and my mom’s face lit up as she carefully untied the ribbon.

“Oh, Jeff, you didn’t have to,” she said softly.

“Yes, I did. Go on. Open it,” he urged, leaning forward in his chair.

She unwrapped the box slowly, savoring the moment… until she saw what was inside— toilet paper. 12-pack. Four-ply. Jumbo rolls.

A woman smiling with a big present | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling with a big present | Source: Midjourney

Mom blinked in confusion.

“It’s so soft. Just like you!” Jeff declared, slapping his knee and cackling. “And look, four-ply, to represent your four kids. Perfect, right?”

Mom let out a nervous laugh, but I could see her eyes glistening. My sisters and I exchanged a look. This wasn’t just a bad joke; it was cruel.

We’d had enough. We had to do something.

A woman looking angry | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking angry | Source: Midjourney

***

Two days later, our plan began to take shape. Jeff loved two things: being the “big man” and free food. So, we invited him to a “family dinner” at the Chinese restaurant he always raved about.

Chloe, my youngest sibling, was the one who planted the idea.

“We’ll do it in his favorite place. He won’t suspect a thing,” she said, smirking.

Lily, being the eldest and most practical, raised an eyebrow. “And what happens after?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Chloe replied. “We’ll handle it.”

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

We set the date and made sure to hype it up, so Jeff wouldn’t miss it.

“Dinner’s on us this time,” Chloe told him sweetly

Jeff puffed out his chest. “Well, it’s about time someone else paid for once. I’m glad that being out of the house has finally opened your eyes to how great you fared because of me!”

We rolled our eyes internally.

The restaurant was bustling that night. Shiny red lanterns hung from the ceiling, giving the space a nice reddish glow.

Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

The food from other tables smelled delicious, and I could tell Jeff was hungry as we sat down at our table.

“When are your mom and Lily getting here?” he asked, wrinkling his nose toward the front door.

“Don’t worry. They’ll be here soon. How about we order food anyway?” I suggested, nodding towards Chloe.

She agreed and started rattling off things she wanted, things we specifically planned to order: Szechuan beef, Kung Pao chicken, and the spiciest mapo tofu on the menu.

Chinese menu | Source: Midjourney

Chinese menu | Source: Midjourney

Jeff ordered his usual, but I knew what we had in mind would still work.

Each dish came out looking like a masterpiece of fiery reds and deep browns, garnished with fresh herbs and enough chili to make a grown man cry.

Chloe’s eyes twinkled as the waiter finished arranging everything on the table.

“Jeff, you can handle spicy, right?” she asked, pretending to be concerned.

A woman smiling at Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling at Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Jeff stayed silent for a second, stumped, then nodded quickly. “I didn’t realize you gals wanted to share everything. Of course, I can eat anything. Nothing is ever too spicy for a real man.”

I chimed in with, “Be careful with these, though. They’re pretty hot.”

I just knew my words would make him mad.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Amelia,” Jeff scoffed and took his chopsticks to skewer a piece of beef straight into his mouth.

A man looking serious at a Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A man looking serious at a Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

At first, he gave out an exaggerated moan, to “prove his manliness,” but soon, his face turned redder than the lanterns above us. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he chewed and breathed through his nose.

“Everything alright?” Chloe asked, again faking worry.

“Yes, yes,” he lied through his full mouth. “This is good stuff.”

I was sure Jeff wouldn’t grab more after gulping down an entire glass of Coke, but Chloe and I began eating in earnest.

“Oh, it’s not so spicy after all,” Chloe commented, smiling sugary-sweet. She was baiting him.

A woman smiling with chopsticks in her hand | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling with chopsticks in her hand | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, grabbing more.

Not to be outdone, Jeff began to eat more. He was breathing roughly now, but when we asked if he was alright, he simply said, “This really clears the sinuses, gals.”

Still, his fingers went up and snapped at the waiter to bring him more Coke.

Chloe leaned over and whispered, “He’s going to feel that later.”

“Oh, definitely,” I whispered back, grinning conspiratorially.

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

***

While Jeff was busy showing off his “macho” tolerance for heat, Mom and Lily were busy back at the house with a rented U-Haul and movers.

They worked quickly to load up Mom’s belongings, such as clothes, keepsakes, her favorite chair, and even the toaster. I told them to take the things Mom had given Jeff over the years by saving up when she could: the recliner and his specialty tools.

A truck and workers loading boxes | Source: Midjourney

A truck and workers loading boxes | Source: Midjourney

But the pièce de résistance was Chloe telling them to remove every single roll of toilet paper in the house.

***

Jeff was still red when we left the restaurant, and he was grumbling about Mom and Lily being no-shows. So I just suggested going to the house to see if anything had happened.

When we arrived, everything was ready. The truck had already left. Meanwhile, Mom and Lily were hiding in the garage.

Jeff walked in with Chloe and me right behind him. He barely made it two steps into the living room before he froze.

A dimly lit living room | Source: Midjourney

A dimly lit living room | Source: Midjourney

“Where’s my recliner?” he barked, scanning the empty spot.

“Gone,” Chloe piped in casually, tilting her head. “Mom took what’s hers.”

Jeff turned to us and his face reddened again, but before he could say another word, his stomach gurgled loudly. He doubled over slightly, clutching his gut.

“Oh, man, I think that spicy food—” He paused, looking around frantically.

A man holding his stomach | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his stomach | Source: Midjourney

“Is something wrong, Jeff? I hope it wasn’t the food,” I said, blinking innocently.

He stared daggers at me before bolting down the hall. Moments later, we heard the bathroom door slam.

Lily and Mom appeared out of their hiding spot right in time to hear the sound of Jeff panicking. “What the hell? Where’s all the toilet paper?!” he yelled.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“We took that along with the recliner!” I shouted, laughter bubbling up. “After all, it also belonged to Mom!”

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

“WHAT?” he shouted back.

It seemed like he wasn’t getting it, so Mom stepped closer to the bathroom door. “I’M LEAVING YOU, JEFF! And I took what was mine,” she exclaimed firmly. “Including my dignity.”

Jeff groaned loudly from behind the bathroom door. “You can’t just leave me like this!” he yelled.

“WATCH ME!” Mom replied, adding, “Not that you can right now, but enjoy staying in the bathroom all night!”

A woman next to a closed door | Source: Midjourney

A woman next to a closed door | Source: Midjourney

My sisters and I stared at each other, giggling.

Jeff groaned, and there were other unsavory sounds, which I took as our cue to leave. “Let’s go, Mom,” I said.

She nodded and walked out, thanking us.

***

The next day, Jeff tried to call her. Over and over again, he left voicemails full of fake apologies and pitiful excuses.

“Jane, come on, be reasonable! You can’t just run off like this!” he begged.

A man using a phone | Source: Midjourney

A man using a phone | Source: Midjourney

But Mom didn’t answer or call back.

Instead, Chloe had a better idea.

On his birthday, we sent Jeff a little gift. A jumbo pack of toilet paper, wrapped just as carefully as the one he’d given Mom.

Attached was a handwritten note that read: “For a real man.”

Rolls of toilet paper on a porch | Source: Midjourney

Rolls of toilet paper on a porch | Source: Midjourney

Mom moved in with Lily, a temporary arrangement where we all helped while she found a job. Anthony was delighted to learn about what we had done and wished he was there, too.

From what I hear, Jeff’s still complaining to anyone who’ll listen. But Mom is finally living her life without his control, and we couldn’t be prouder.

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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