I'm a lady - of course, I use the term "lady" lightly here - and like any lady, I like to shop. As a matter of fact, back before I had a house, fiance' and dog, you could find me shopping just about as much as you could find me out drinking with friends and living it up. After all, I was the girl with nineteen pairs of jeans in rotation at any given time (picture this: I used to use my ghetto-booty as a tool to pick up men). Now, I'd rather pop open a bottle of red and chill by the fire with my main man and pup. Between you and me, not only am I surprised by this fact, but also shocked I'm actually willing to admit it.
One thing I'm having a particularly tough time grasping, however, is why the fun has been completely zapped from shopping. Now, I actually view this past-pasttime as a chore. Grocery shopping officially blows and I resort to my corner store for milk and bread more often than not. Clothing shopping gets continually difficult as I remain a 'tweener (not a girl, not yet a woman-willing-to-sport-mom-butt). And lately, I've been introduced to a new kind of shopping: Wedding Shopping.
I ask myself everyday how people managed to plan weddings before the Internet became mainstream. Having said that, I still find myself driving around town an awful lot lately, looking for some obscure and yet-found item I never thought I would ever need. Patina paint? Yes, please! A large flower-shaped paper punch? Don't mind if I do! Mother-of-the-Groom dresses by the boatload to bring Up North for an Easter weekend fashion show (my in-law's live in the sticks, and they like being stuck there)? Uh. Huh.
*sigh* I'm exhausted and I haven't even started gathering RSVP's yet. And don't even bring up the subject of putting together a seating chart because I'll cry, I swear I will!
My wedding planner has mentioned doing personal shopping for me, but I was previously too worried she wouldn't be prudent enough to weed out the tacky. Now? I might enlist her with the wise advice to simply step away from the gold and gaudy. Any advice for a harried wife-to-be? I'm a card-carrying lunatic, and I'm not afraid to use it...
Monday, March 17, 2008
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Girls, Girls, Girls!
This past weekend was great. I was supposed to have gone to Chicago to visit my best friend (and bridesmaid), but on Friday afternoon, she called to tell me she was feeling sick and thought it was best that I stay home. Having the weekend suddenly open to do whatever, I quickly got other plans in the works and ended up spending the weekend with some of my favorite ladies in my life.
On Saturday, I went to Grand Rapids to spend time with my mom, sister, aunt, and friend. We went mother-of-the-bride dress shopping (for the THIRD TIME), which has proven to be more difficult than wedding dress shopping! Seriously. There are some fugly dresses out there for mothers' of brides. You would think there would be some options out there that didn't fall under one of two categories:
On Saturday, I went to Grand Rapids to spend time with my mom, sister, aunt, and friend. We went mother-of-the-bride dress shopping (for the THIRD TIME), which has proven to be more difficult than wedding dress shopping! Seriously. There are some fugly dresses out there for mothers' of brides. You would think there would be some options out there that didn't fall under one of two categories:
- Hoochie of the Bride
- Granny of the Bride
But, nooooo! There has been no happy medium, thus far.
There was one serious contender (which we actually bought, just in case), but my mom complained about it making her boobs look flattened out. I thought I had just the fix for that, and yelled out loud for everyone to hear, "Cindy (our friend who was there), go grab my mom some cutlets!" Two minutes later, I was stuffing the silicone bra inserts into my mom's bra, with her cracking up the whole time.
Then, to make it all the more hilarious, I went and grabbed one of those full-body suctiony girdle things for my mom try on, since the dress we liked didn't come in her size and we wanted to see how it would look once she lost a couple pounds from the diet she's on right now. Let's just say we monopolized the dressing rooms, and having five women there in one stall? It's fodder for laughs all around (my poor mom)!
We followed up the shopping with lunch and a movie - '27 Dresses.' It was the perfect way to end the day. Sure, we didn't find the perfect dress for my mom, but we're hopeful.
On Sunday, I met up with my other best friend (and bridesmaid) to find shoes for her and my other attendants to wear. We had lunch, shopped, and then went to get mani-pedi's. It was such a nice, relaxing weekend, and I was so happy to be able to make these last minute plans with people who love and care about me.
At one point, I looked around and asked myself, "How can wedding planning be bad when you have women this wonderful to help you?!" I truly felt blessed.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Limits
I learned something new about myself recently: I don't have the mental capacity to attend a bridal show with an open mind. I vowed never to attend one, because I had an inking that this might be the case. However, upon getting a D.J. recommendation from my wedding coordinator, I was told I could get a sizable discount if I went to meet him at a bridal show and signed with him there. And so, this is how I found myself at a bridal show on a Sunday morning.
With mimosa in hand (God bless 'em), we walked around the different booths. I was soon conscious of the fact that I was wrinkling up my nose in judgment quite a bit, a realization I pointed out to Mark (I'd dragged him along for moral support). I felt bad, but every time I approached a new booth, I was greeted with yet more...tacky. SUV limo? Check. Doves in a white cage? Double check. Sparkles and tafetta and feathers? Check. Check. CHECK.
While passing the chair cover lady, we were dragged in to look at her brochure. When I told her where we were holding our reception, she informed us she had two options that fit the chairs available at our location. Pointing out the cheap-looking white option, I asked, "Is that satin?" Excitedly, she nodded her head and said, "Yes!" Without missing a beat, I said, "I don't like satin." Poor lady. Later, when we got into the car, Mark shared with me his version of this exchange:
Me: Is that satin?
Her: Why, yes, IT IS!...
Me: I HATE motherfuckin' satin!!!!
Tee hee...
By the time we found the DJ, I'd had enough. Approaching him and introducing myself, he cheerfully asked us if we were having a good time. Proving - once again - that I have no filter on my brain whatsoever, I responded by miming a twitch (with the head to the side and all) and saying, "Um, not really...these things make me twitch!" Yeah. I fucking rock.
After asking the very nice DJ some information, I was ready to sign on the dotted line. Before doing so, though, I inquired about the equipment set-up. He explained that they had quite the light show, which included roughly eight lights. I must have been blankly staring at him as I thought to myself how excessive that sounded, because he waited a few seconds and then said, "...but...we could always talk about narrowing that down a little?" to which I replied with a hearty, "OK! That'd be great!" It was at that point I finished off the white wine I'd just been handed, looked at Mark and said, "We've got to get out of here...I'm being a bitch."
Everyone? I swear I'm a nice person. And I love pretty things. Dressing up is always fun for me, and I even look forward to putting little bows on presents, etc. Yet, somehow I still can't let myself go "all out" with this wedding planning. I got goosebumps while attending our chapel recently, but I still can't get excited about linens and invitations. I guess I am who I am, but this process has certainly exposed some limitations I didn't know I had.
Pass me another piece of wedding cake, though, and we'll talk.
With mimosa in hand (God bless 'em), we walked around the different booths. I was soon conscious of the fact that I was wrinkling up my nose in judgment quite a bit, a realization I pointed out to Mark (I'd dragged him along for moral support). I felt bad, but every time I approached a new booth, I was greeted with yet more...tacky. SUV limo? Check. Doves in a white cage? Double check. Sparkles and tafetta and feathers? Check. Check. CHECK.
While passing the chair cover lady, we were dragged in to look at her brochure. When I told her where we were holding our reception, she informed us she had two options that fit the chairs available at our location. Pointing out the cheap-looking white option, I asked, "Is that satin?" Excitedly, she nodded her head and said, "Yes!" Without missing a beat, I said, "I don't like satin." Poor lady. Later, when we got into the car, Mark shared with me his version of this exchange:
Me: Is that satin?
Her: Why, yes, IT IS!...
Me: I HATE motherfuckin' satin!!!!
Tee hee...
By the time we found the DJ, I'd had enough. Approaching him and introducing myself, he cheerfully asked us if we were having a good time. Proving - once again - that I have no filter on my brain whatsoever, I responded by miming a twitch (with the head to the side and all) and saying, "Um, not really...these things make me twitch!" Yeah. I fucking rock.
After asking the very nice DJ some information, I was ready to sign on the dotted line. Before doing so, though, I inquired about the equipment set-up. He explained that they had quite the light show, which included roughly eight lights. I must have been blankly staring at him as I thought to myself how excessive that sounded, because he waited a few seconds and then said, "...but...we could always talk about narrowing that down a little?" to which I replied with a hearty, "OK! That'd be great!" It was at that point I finished off the white wine I'd just been handed, looked at Mark and said, "We've got to get out of here...I'm being a bitch."
Everyone? I swear I'm a nice person. And I love pretty things. Dressing up is always fun for me, and I even look forward to putting little bows on presents, etc. Yet, somehow I still can't let myself go "all out" with this wedding planning. I got goosebumps while attending our chapel recently, but I still can't get excited about linens and invitations. I guess I am who I am, but this process has certainly exposed some limitations I didn't know I had.
Pass me another piece of wedding cake, though, and we'll talk.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Progress
I have news. I hired a wedding coordinator this weekend. YAY! When I told Mark how much it would cost (it was a deal, if you ask me), he said, "PERFECT, let's get two!" He's so cute. He maintains that it's worth every penny if it gives me peace of mind, and so far it has done just that.
We've also secured a baker for the cake and met with our pastor since I last posted. I'm on a roll! Funny thing: once I got more details out of the way and stopped thinking about it all so much, I started having fun. Guess I just needed to stop worrying and get moving...
Today at the chapel during the meeting with our pastor, Mark and I were glowing. It was so fun to be in the very place we will get married in just a few short months. When we were asked what made us realize we were each "the one" for the other, I teared up upon hearing what Mark had to say. He is very good at always making me feel loved and appreciated, but hearing the words so specifically spelled out was such a treat. I'd already given my (inferior, IMHO) answer and upon hearing what he so eloquently had to say, I immediately piped up with a "Uhh, can I change my answer to 'What he said'?" I'm such a dork. :o)
We've also secured a baker for the cake and met with our pastor since I last posted. I'm on a roll! Funny thing: once I got more details out of the way and stopped thinking about it all so much, I started having fun. Guess I just needed to stop worrying and get moving...
Today at the chapel during the meeting with our pastor, Mark and I were glowing. It was so fun to be in the very place we will get married in just a few short months. When we were asked what made us realize we were each "the one" for the other, I teared up upon hearing what Mark had to say. He is very good at always making me feel loved and appreciated, but hearing the words so specifically spelled out was such a treat. I'd already given my (inferior, IMHO) answer and upon hearing what he so eloquently had to say, I immediately piped up with a "Uhh, can I change my answer to 'What he said'?" I'm such a dork. :o)
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Bridesmaid dresses: Ordered!
When I went to Indianapolis in November with my little sister Rachel and stepmom (better known as 'YOM' or "Your other mother"), we happened upon this bridesmaid dress and fell in love with it. When Rachel, my maid of honor, tried it on, I'm pretty sure I squealed and jumped up and down, that's how perfect it fit with my vision of our wedding day. After waiting oh-so-patiently to get the size information from the other girls, I finally was able to order the dresses this morning. I'm so excited!! They are so springy and sweet, aren't they?
Ann Taylor Karen Crossdye Dupioni Strapless dress:
Ann Taylor Karen Crossdye Dupioni Strapless dress:
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Because I (apparently) like living the edge
I get married four months from today. Just to prove how far behind I am with the wedding planning (I've oh-so-diligiently bucked this system far too long), I'll let you know what I've finally done in the last two days alone:
- Set up a time to get our engagement photo taken for the paper (SHAMEFUL)
- Made an appointment with a pastor to perform the wedding ceremony (I KNOW!!)
- Set up an appointment with a cake lady
- Called about DJ services that don't offer 'The Bubble Experience'
- Looked up local marriage certificate laws
- Reserved the tuxes for the male attendents (Mark is now the proud owner of his own matching one, since he will have many reasons to wear one starting this Friday)
- Researched wedding planners and emailed one of them with possible desperation in my (writing) voice
- Began looking for a rehearsal dinner location
- Decided upon the starting time for our wedding, which is now 5:30pm, after wavering between that and 6pm for months...what's wrong with me?! Wait...don't answer that.
- Sat down and reviewed the checklist in my sadly neglected Martha Stewart wedding planning binder (and folks? I gots lot's to do...)
- Made a plan to sit down with the caterer to talk about menu options
Hilariously, I now feel a sense of calm about this whole wedding-planning thing. It's not lost on me that I finally started feeling better about this once I got off my damn ass and started doing something about it. Funny how that works, huh? *blush*
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Unsure
(Sorry, in advance, for any of you who already read this on my other blog...)
The other day I was feeling off and jittery. Mark, in an attempt to cheer me up, asked, "What's your favorite food in the whole world?" I didn't know at the time, but he was planning to go get that very food for me and bring it back so we could eat it while watching a funny movie. Not knowing he was asking for a more immediate reason, I sat there wracking my brain for what felt like an eternity before I finally tearfully said, "I don't...really...I can't THINK what my favorite food is!" and slumped down on the couch next to him for a hug. He then told me his reason for asking, at which point I said ""Ohhh. If I would have known that, I would have told you what I was in the mood for right now..."
This led me to sadly admitting that I felt like a loser for not being able to ever give an answer for what my "favorite" anything is (color, line of work, hobby, parent, etc). He claimed he was the same way and thought both of us are this way because we like a lot of things a lot, and aren't the type to allow ourselves to get blocked in or committed to just one thing - except for each other, of course. I mean, variety is the spice of life, right?
I've thought more since that conversation, and I realize this very reason is why I'm not enjoying wedding planning very much. There is so much pressure to not only get everything right, make everyone happy and keep with traditions, but also to make this day special and specific to us, while taking into account all of our favorite things. I mean, if you asked me what my favorite flower is - which I was asked by my florist, by the way - I would think to myself, "But there are too many beautiful ones to choose just one!" Maybe it's the middle child in me, but my heart always breaks a little to think I might leave anything out. And so it's easier if I just avoid having to make these decisions at all, for fear I won't make the right ones.
Now, I could easily hire a wedding planner and I still might (Fabulous!). But the thing is, while I'm awfully bad at making a decision about any one thing, I'm also quite good at being opinionated and knowing what it is I don't want. Which is exactly why it took me 30 years to find the man I wanted to marry in the first place...
So how do I get over this? How do I balance my perfectionism, growing anxiety, normal life stresses, and want/needs, all the while staying within a budget and including everything that is important to us? How do I begin looking at this problem and making it into a solution, instead of tritely blaming it on the fact that I just don't think I'm cut out for this wedding-planning business? I don't want to appear to be bitter because I'm so far from it. I think about my wedding day and I feel warm and like the luckiest person knowing I will be marrying my best friend, the person who makes me happier than I ever thought I deserved to be. I see myself walking down the aisle of the adorable little chapel and I feel excited and renewed. But then I'm forced to once again look back at the minute details, to make the calls and sign the contracts & checks, and answer all the questions...and I just want to run away from it all.
How do I let go and just enjoy this ride? I certainly have waited in line for it for a long time, and it saddens me to think I'm ruining it for myself.
The other day I was feeling off and jittery. Mark, in an attempt to cheer me up, asked, "What's your favorite food in the whole world?" I didn't know at the time, but he was planning to go get that very food for me and bring it back so we could eat it while watching a funny movie. Not knowing he was asking for a more immediate reason, I sat there wracking my brain for what felt like an eternity before I finally tearfully said, "I don't...really...I can't THINK what my favorite food is!" and slumped down on the couch next to him for a hug. He then told me his reason for asking, at which point I said ""Ohhh. If I would have known that, I would have told you what I was in the mood for right now..."
This led me to sadly admitting that I felt like a loser for not being able to ever give an answer for what my "favorite" anything is (color, line of work, hobby, parent, etc). He claimed he was the same way and thought both of us are this way because we like a lot of things a lot, and aren't the type to allow ourselves to get blocked in or committed to just one thing - except for each other, of course. I mean, variety is the spice of life, right?
I've thought more since that conversation, and I realize this very reason is why I'm not enjoying wedding planning very much. There is so much pressure to not only get everything right, make everyone happy and keep with traditions, but also to make this day special and specific to us, while taking into account all of our favorite things. I mean, if you asked me what my favorite flower is - which I was asked by my florist, by the way - I would think to myself, "But there are too many beautiful ones to choose just one!" Maybe it's the middle child in me, but my heart always breaks a little to think I might leave anything out. And so it's easier if I just avoid having to make these decisions at all, for fear I won't make the right ones.
Now, I could easily hire a wedding planner and I still might (Fabulous!). But the thing is, while I'm awfully bad at making a decision about any one thing, I'm also quite good at being opinionated and knowing what it is I don't want. Which is exactly why it took me 30 years to find the man I wanted to marry in the first place...
So how do I get over this? How do I balance my perfectionism, growing anxiety, normal life stresses, and want/needs, all the while staying within a budget and including everything that is important to us? How do I begin looking at this problem and making it into a solution, instead of tritely blaming it on the fact that I just don't think I'm cut out for this wedding-planning business? I don't want to appear to be bitter because I'm so far from it. I think about my wedding day and I feel warm and like the luckiest person knowing I will be marrying my best friend, the person who makes me happier than I ever thought I deserved to be. I see myself walking down the aisle of the adorable little chapel and I feel excited and renewed. But then I'm forced to once again look back at the minute details, to make the calls and sign the contracts & checks, and answer all the questions...and I just want to run away from it all.
How do I let go and just enjoy this ride? I certainly have waited in line for it for a long time, and it saddens me to think I'm ruining it for myself.
Monday, January 14, 2008
I'm trying here!
So I got another email from The Knot today. And instead of rolling my eyes and hitting 'delete,' I scanned through the "You have four months left and these are the millions of things you still need to do!" message and found a link about "personalizing" my special day. Because despite how indifferent I am to the mundane actions of planning a wedding, I'm ALL about making this day special and tailored to Mark and me. I loved this little tip:
"Leave a blank note card at each guest’s plate so that can write down their well-wishes for you as a couple. Once done, ask them to slip the note in a gorgeous box... Read them after the honeymoon, then at your first anniversary, and your second...handwritten notes will never lose their power of personalization."
See? I'm not that cynical... ;o)
"Leave a blank note card at each guest’s plate so that can write down their well-wishes for you as a couple. Once done, ask them to slip the note in a gorgeous box... Read them after the honeymoon, then at your first anniversary, and your second...handwritten notes will never lose their power of personalization."
See? I'm not that cynical... ;o)
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Snide-to-Be
It's been too long since I've written here and for that I'm sorry. I'm sorry mostly because that means I haven't really done much by way of wedding planning. Keeping with tradition, I've been a pretty lousy bride-to-be; this is NOT coming naturally for me! I'm ok with this, knowing I will be much more attune to the 'being a good wife' part, but in the meantime I'm slightly disgusted with myself.
I've been pretty judgmental about this whole process. When I log onto The Knot and read the local chatboards for suggestions, I start twitching. Have you been on this site? I honestly worry that some of those aching-for-a-wedding women don't realize that once this big 'to-do' is over? They will be MARRIED. Like, for better or worse. It's just...typical. So yes, I judge a little. While I sometimes wish this wedding planning game was more fun for me to play, I'm also happy knowing that part of the reason why Mark wants to marry ME and not someone else is because I don't live for this.
Last night we met with our friend* who is designing our wedding invitations. When she asked us what we were looking for, I went off on a tangent:
"I want none of that ivory on ivory crap. And you can forget the 'flimsy-flamsy' tissue paper between the pages, too. I mean, what IS that? Am I supposed to use it to blot my greasy forehead? Oh, thanks, I'll be sure to bring it to your wedding so I'm suitable for impromptu photos!"
Really, people. Do I have to be so...crude? *sigh*
When I got a call back yesterday from the guy at a DJ company I was considering, I almost laughed out loud at his suggestions. He was so excited to tell me about their bubble machine (he actually referred to this as "The Bubble Experience") and FOG machine! And how they can bring in plasma TV's - plural - so videos of the songs can be played all night long! And let us not forget the "Confetti Hand Streamers" for the perfect "Grand Entrance!" I finally cut him off and politely asked, "Uh...how much would it cost for you to JUST PLAY MUSIC for 6 hours?" BLECH.
On a brighter note, we meet with a florist today and so far I want to be her new best friend. She's so talented - she's even worked with the (Bill) Clinton campaign. She also happens to be in the midst of planning her own wedding, so she's completely in tune with what I'm going through. She admitted she's been doing event planning for 12 years, but is having a really tough time planning her own affair. I felt so much better hearing that for some reason. I guess we really are our own worst enemy...
*During our invitation meeting when our friend went to the bathroom, Mark and I actually had a conversation about eloping. I was all, "So what if we lose $1,800 in deposits? Let's run away and be married far away from all this planning B.S.! And he got a big grin on his face and jokingly said, "OK!!" We are freaking hilarious. Except for...I kinda wasn't kidding. *blush*
I've been pretty judgmental about this whole process. When I log onto The Knot and read the local chatboards for suggestions, I start twitching. Have you been on this site? I honestly worry that some of those aching-for-a-wedding women don't realize that once this big 'to-do' is over? They will be MARRIED. Like, for better or worse. It's just...typical. So yes, I judge a little. While I sometimes wish this wedding planning game was more fun for me to play, I'm also happy knowing that part of the reason why Mark wants to marry ME and not someone else is because I don't live for this.
Last night we met with our friend* who is designing our wedding invitations. When she asked us what we were looking for, I went off on a tangent:
"I want none of that ivory on ivory crap. And you can forget the 'flimsy-flamsy' tissue paper between the pages, too. I mean, what IS that? Am I supposed to use it to blot my greasy forehead? Oh, thanks, I'll be sure to bring it to your wedding so I'm suitable for impromptu photos!"
Really, people. Do I have to be so...crude? *sigh*
When I got a call back yesterday from the guy at a DJ company I was considering, I almost laughed out loud at his suggestions. He was so excited to tell me about their bubble machine (he actually referred to this as "The Bubble Experience") and FOG machine! And how they can bring in plasma TV's - plural - so videos of the songs can be played all night long! And let us not forget the "Confetti Hand Streamers" for the perfect "Grand Entrance!" I finally cut him off and politely asked, "Uh...how much would it cost for you to JUST PLAY MUSIC for 6 hours?" BLECH.
On a brighter note, we meet with a florist today and so far I want to be her new best friend. She's so talented - she's even worked with the (Bill) Clinton campaign. She also happens to be in the midst of planning her own wedding, so she's completely in tune with what I'm going through. She admitted she's been doing event planning for 12 years, but is having a really tough time planning her own affair. I felt so much better hearing that for some reason. I guess we really are our own worst enemy...
*During our invitation meeting when our friend went to the bathroom, Mark and I actually had a conversation about eloping. I was all, "So what if we lose $1,800 in deposits? Let's run away and be married far away from all this planning B.S.! And he got a big grin on his face and jokingly said, "OK!!" We are freaking hilarious. Except for...I kinda wasn't kidding. *blush*
Thursday, November 1, 2007
The Search
Driving to the first bridal salon on Saturday, I turned to my mom & sister and said, "If there aren't tears, ladies, it ain't the dress for me...got it?" We laughed, knowing this cliche' is probably just some made up future-wives tale. I mean, how many people really cry the second they find their wedding dress?!
We walked into the first place and I was sadly underwhelmed. I went straight for the bridesmaids dresses, which is never a good sign for a bride-to-be. My sister finally diverted me over to the three walls of white poufiness, where I reluctantly started looking through the options. I whined. I let out lots of "Ugh's" and "Ick's." My mom pointed out several options that made me diplomatically say, "Yeah, it's nice but I don't like (this element)..." I finally found three dresses to try on and went back to the dressing area. Turns out there is only one area with a big mirror and everyone was about to see Amy's ASS. And boobs (I'd brought my own strapless bra). Ahem.
The first one was beautiful, a real contender. The second was gorgeous in a completely different but equal way. My sister took photos and we discussed lace and fit. I was starting to get into the spirit of things! No tears were shed, but overall I left happy, information in hand.
The second place my sister heard about from a friend. We walked in. We walked out. *SHUDDER*
The third place was nice, but I spent more time whining about how HEAVY the dresses were on the racks - in their clear plastic-zippered bags - then I spent trying on said dresses. I finally found one I liked, tried it on and instantly took it off. I'd had just. about. enough.
With a half-hour left until the last place closed, we rolled into the parking lot and I vowed to be more open-minded. Upon walking in, we were asked to take off our shoes before entering the dress area. The ladies were instantly helpful and pointed out options based on what I told them I was looking for. I decided upon three choices, one of which I simply grabbed because I liked the lace.
The first was amazing and my mom was almost sold. The second was beautiful, but just not "me." We went back into the dressing room and my mom and sister helped put the last dress over my shoulders. This dress, a tank style, was the only one I tried on that wasn't strapless; as soon as they got it on me, I said, "Ugh, get these sleeves OFF of me" and promptly removed my arms from them and tucked them into the bodice.
Out to the three-way mirror I went. Stepping up on the pedestal, I couldn't help but look down and admire the lace. I looked up and instantly got goosebumps. I was given a hand mirror to better see the train and as I looked back into the full-length mirror again, I got tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat, and excitedly announced, "I LOVE THIS DRESS!!!" Turning around, I was met by my sister's red face, her own tears threatening to fall. My mom jumped up from the couch, tears running down her face. We all met into a three-way hug, laughing and sobbing. The seamstress even had tears in her eyes. Feeling a bit silly, I blurted out to the sales lady, "I might LOOK twelve, but I'm much older...it's taken me a LONG time to have a reason to cry over a damn dress!" We were promptly handed tissues and told that the sleeve issue was a quick and simple fix. I was sold.
I get choked up thinking about it even now, if you want to know the truth. I honestly never thought I would have this kind of reaction to fabric and thread. I guess what "they" say really is true. Still, I like to think it's not about the dress and more about the fact that finding the one that is so "you" makes it more easy to envision yourself on your wedding day. In the vision I had, I looked ethereally pretty and happy, which is exactly what I wanted.
For those of you who wish you could see a photo of the dress, guess what? It's quite a bit like the dress I raved about here. LOVE!!
We walked into the first place and I was sadly underwhelmed. I went straight for the bridesmaids dresses, which is never a good sign for a bride-to-be. My sister finally diverted me over to the three walls of white poufiness, where I reluctantly started looking through the options. I whined. I let out lots of "Ugh's" and "Ick's." My mom pointed out several options that made me diplomatically say, "Yeah, it's nice but I don't like (this element)..." I finally found three dresses to try on and went back to the dressing area. Turns out there is only one area with a big mirror and everyone was about to see Amy's ASS. And boobs (I'd brought my own strapless bra). Ahem.
The first one was beautiful, a real contender. The second was gorgeous in a completely different but equal way. My sister took photos and we discussed lace and fit. I was starting to get into the spirit of things! No tears were shed, but overall I left happy, information in hand.
The second place my sister heard about from a friend. We walked in. We walked out. *SHUDDER*
The third place was nice, but I spent more time whining about how HEAVY the dresses were on the racks - in their clear plastic-zippered bags - then I spent trying on said dresses. I finally found one I liked, tried it on and instantly took it off. I'd had just. about. enough.
With a half-hour left until the last place closed, we rolled into the parking lot and I vowed to be more open-minded. Upon walking in, we were asked to take off our shoes before entering the dress area. The ladies were instantly helpful and pointed out options based on what I told them I was looking for. I decided upon three choices, one of which I simply grabbed because I liked the lace.
The first was amazing and my mom was almost sold. The second was beautiful, but just not "me." We went back into the dressing room and my mom and sister helped put the last dress over my shoulders. This dress, a tank style, was the only one I tried on that wasn't strapless; as soon as they got it on me, I said, "Ugh, get these sleeves OFF of me" and promptly removed my arms from them and tucked them into the bodice.
Out to the three-way mirror I went. Stepping up on the pedestal, I couldn't help but look down and admire the lace. I looked up and instantly got goosebumps. I was given a hand mirror to better see the train and as I looked back into the full-length mirror again, I got tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat, and excitedly announced, "I LOVE THIS DRESS!!!" Turning around, I was met by my sister's red face, her own tears threatening to fall. My mom jumped up from the couch, tears running down her face. We all met into a three-way hug, laughing and sobbing. The seamstress even had tears in her eyes. Feeling a bit silly, I blurted out to the sales lady, "I might LOOK twelve, but I'm much older...it's taken me a LONG time to have a reason to cry over a damn dress!" We were promptly handed tissues and told that the sleeve issue was a quick and simple fix. I was sold.
I get choked up thinking about it even now, if you want to know the truth. I honestly never thought I would have this kind of reaction to fabric and thread. I guess what "they" say really is true. Still, I like to think it's not about the dress and more about the fact that finding the one that is so "you" makes it more easy to envision yourself on your wedding day. In the vision I had, I looked ethereally pretty and happy, which is exactly what I wanted.
For those of you who wish you could see a photo of the dress, guess what? It's quite a bit like the dress I raved about here. LOVE!!
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