I’m delighted to report that Curly Girl’s wedding gown has arrived from somewhere in China. I know you’ve all been waiting with bated breath to hear this news, so I wanted you to be the first to know.

The dress came in a lovely white presentation box, wrapped in tissue paper. No, I’m just kidding. Of course it didn’t.

It actually showed up on the front porch stuffed into a plastic sack in a cardboard box that looked like it might have been designed to hold laundry detergent.

And when I say stuffed, I actually mean crammed in without even being nicely folded. So much for making the bride feel special as she opens what will probably be the most expensive dress of her life.

However, we were happy just to know that it had actually arrived and — when she pulled it out of the plastic bag — it wasn’t even wrinkled. My favorite kind of fabric: The non-wrinkle variety.

If you’re new here, the nickel version of this story is that my 23-year-old daughter, Curly Girl, is planning to get married in May, so she and her fiance can bankrupt me before the gas prices can do it for them. All right, all right, they’re not actually trying to bankrupt me, but if you’ve ever paid for a wedding, you know what I’m talking about.

I’m grateful that she’s my only daughter, so I’ll only have to do this once. Since I was always too crabby to get married, though, this is my one chance to be part of a wedding. So it’s fun, even if it’s costing me several limbs and my first-born male child.

Actually, Curly Girl takes after me, in that she likes to be frugal when she can. We didn’t find her dress at a thrift shop and she refused to buy a used dress despite my nagging, so it wasn’t perfectly cheap. But we did find the dress in the downtown L.A. garment district, where the mere thought of the bargains makes me hyperventilate slightly. I’ve blown a lot of money there over the years because who can resist a bargain? Not me.

Elbowing your way through the crowds in the Santee Alley can also be fun, if you’re looking for cheap knock-offs, slutty lingerie and inexpensive clothes. We didn’t make it into the Santee Alley on our wedding dress excursion, because we were too busy at a wedding dress showroom called Cocomelody.

The showroom has hundreds of gowns you can try on, but if you decide to buy, they’ll order it for you and it will come from a galaxy far, far away.

We called and made an appointment at Cocomelody and went in on a Wednesday morning, which was great because we were the only people there. I told our friendly stylist, Ben, that I didn’t want to spend more than $600, and he was very accommodating. He didn’t try to upsell me, for which I was grateful. Call me insane, but I felt $600 was plenty to spend on a gown.

Some of you are gasping right now, but that is considered a steal in the world of weddings these days, where even middle-class people who are temporarily insane shell out $4,000 or more. At that price, if the wedding lasts for four hours, you’re spending $16.67 a minute to inhabit a gown that you’ll most likely never wear again. I can think of many things to do with $4,000, most of which involve purchasing plane tickets and none of which involve buying a dress.

Anyway, I’m pleased to say that Cocomelody had many nice dresses in my price range, and it only took a few minutes for Curly Girl to find her dream garment. I had prescreened them online, since I know what she likes, and they had pulled the dresses for me. When she shops, she knows what she wants. She doesn’t shilly-shally around. When she put on the dream dress, we all knew it knew it, because she started crying when she saw herself in the three-sided mirror. She’s not a big sob sister, so this was an event.

I can’t show you the dress right now. You’ll have to wait until after the wedding. But let’s just say she loves it because it shows off all her tattoos. I love it because it’s pretty, affordable and isn’t as skimpy on top as I was worried it would be. Curly Girl’s birth grandmother sent her $1,000 to buy the dress, which was $665 including shipping. The rest of the money will go for alterations, veil and shoes.

She already picked a veil she liked at a bridal shop downtown. It cost $25. That’s my kind of filmy headwear. Now she has to find shoes. The dress has gone to a seamstress, where it’s being hemmed right now. Alterations aren’t cheap, but you actually just get to the point where everything is costing so much that you just start saying “fine” to whatever people throw at you.

You want to wear giant platform shoes that would be a tripping hazard, even if you’re not wearing a gown that sweeps on the floor? Fine. It will make a good video on YouTube.

You want to hire a makeup and hair artist for $425 to come up to your venue at Mt. Baldy, when you are actually beautiful and utterly skillful at your own hair and makeup? Fine.

I’m sure I’ll be saying that word many more times between now and May. I’m sure I’ll be saying “fine” many times before then.