Ya know, when someone asks you to be their bridesmaid, it’s generally a cause for celebration. Really, we do in the vast majority of cases, relish the opportunity to engage in party planning/preening/champagne popping activities with our best friends and family. However, occasionally one will be asked to take on such a responsibility when one couldn’t give a proverbial rat’s arse about the bride in question.

It leaves one feeling confused, bitter, even angry… Gasping one’s self awake in the dead of the night and exclaiming “Why, for the love of all things holy, did Anastasia choose me? I haven’t enjoyed the company of that strumpet since the Passion Pop incident of two thousand and four?!”

And yet, one is obliged.

Balls.

Muchos gracias to the many legends who took the day off work to get chiffon-nasty in a studio in Annandale, my babeshow sister included (whom I happen to be the bridesmaid for currently and am DEEPLY STOKED about so everyone COOL YOUR JETS)… also my best mate who lent me a bunch of dresses (I’d better be on your bloody bridesmaid list too or I’ll be SO CUT).

If you haven’t seen the original Justin Bieber dance video by a bunch of legends in New Zealand which is BOMB DOT COM check it out here.

If you haven’t already liked it, go and show Frothpocalypse some love.