Let's begin with Tiffany and I waiting in line to even get into the salon: rain-bedraggled, me in glasses, no makeup, and old jeans. Surrounded by gorgeous, coiffed, tanned girls who are already wedding-ready, and whose hair is somehow miraculously straight despite the rain. And then they all squeal and clap whenever a girl came out with a dress. Yeah, I don't get it. I felt so out of place and insecure.
Then we get up in there, and it's a madhouse. People grabbing dresses, stealing mirrors, and Tiff was such a trooper, stalking a gorgeous Rosa Clara dress that another bride was waffling on, until she took it off.
Now, here's the thing about this dress. Gorgeous. Very different -- dropped waist, layered skirt that alternated between thin bands of lace and thicker bands of this crepey, antique looking fabric. The picture doesn't do it justice, unfortunately. Very different, very gorgeous, but very much in need of tailoring, and right at the top of my price range (tailoring not included), and very...big. One of those dresses that no doubt everyone would remark upon and remember, but I couldn't get away from the feeling that people would see only the dress, and not me in it. And as much as I love fashion, I'm not going to be that girl who makes the day all about her. Boo to that girl. Our wedding is to be about us, our friends, our families.
And so the dress stayed behind, as did my enthusiasm for dress shopping. I admit it. I came home and nearly burst into tears on the couch with Jay. Suddenly I felt like I would never find anything right. Never become that perfect bride that had surrounded me. That somehow I would never be able to pull this all together. Thank goodness for wine. And no kidding, the next day, I found the dress that would become mine! :)
No comments:
Post a Comment