I’ve been waiting eight loooong months to see my beautiful wedding dress. This is what happens when you order a dress in a city where neither you nor anyone you knows lives. (Do I recommend it? … I can’t imagine it another way for me, because every option presented some difficulty. But if you can avoid it, do.)
After hearing that the dress had arrived in October, then finding out it was not right, I was so thrilled to get a text from LaRaine’s Bridal Boutique about two weeks ago with a picture of the correct bodice. (I would post the picture, but I can’t figure out how to get that picture from my text messages to my computer… #smartphonenoob)
The dress was exactly how I wanted it, so I just assumed that my first fitting would be amazing. I thought I would be over the moon, we would all cry, and I would dance around the shop. (I don’t know… I just thought it would be super fun.) Needless to say, I was wrong.
Did I dance? Yes. Do I love my dress? Yes. Did I have a super fun time? Eh… not really.
Looking back, I wish I would have said, “Ladies, please help me into the dress. And then please leave me alone with my mom for just a few minutes.” I just felt like there were too many people doing too many things at once. The seamstress immediately started pinning. Another woman starting lifting up the back to mark the place for the bustle. And everyone was talking all at once. I couldn’t get focused on anything. It didn’t help that my hair looked like poo because I can’t do anything with it with only one hand (broken wrist, remember?).
Finally, I was able to get someone to hand me a mirror so I could see the back of the dress. And then I guess that was the cue to break up the madness because everyone left for a few minutes. In actuality, this just led to more madness because it’s when I discovered that my accessories didn’t work at all. I put on the necklace I’d spent hours making and intended to wear to the reception, and I actually shuddered. It looked horrific with my dress. I got out my hair flower that I’d spent eternity looking for and discovered it was too ivory.
So then, naturally everyone tried to be very helpful by scouring the shop for a new flower. But I was just done by that point. No flower was perfect, and I wasn’t about to spend fifty dollars (or more!!!) on a hair flower I didn’t love. I was exhausted.
To be honest, I’m still exhausted. If someone told me my wedding was this coming weekend, I would cry, because all I want to do is curl up on my futon and take a nap. Am I the only one? Did anyone else have a not-so-fun dress fitting? Was it more stressful than you imagined?