In which I fall even more in love with my dress


During the dress search, I was terrified about finding the right dress. In hindsight, I’m not really sure why. If I had thought about it, I would have known that no matter what dress I chose, it would be the right one. I was in such unfamiliar territory that I felt couldn’t trust my own decision making capabilities, my own sense of what was right for me.

As I put my dress on on Tuesday, all those fears were gone. I stepped out of the dressing room, hugging the stiff boning to my body while my mom and Jen, the bridal consultant, laced me up. My best friend, J, who had not yet seen the dress, or even me in a wedding dress, sat in what seemed a little like shock until she could exclaim her approval.

The dress is perfect. I didn’t want to take it off. I wanted to indulge my ego and the pure elegance of the layers of taffeta and beading and crinoline and stand in front of that mirror all day.

But, of course, I couldn’t. They unlaced me and the beautiful dress went back into the plastic bag once more until my first fitting.

We bought my shoes that day too. And now, they’re on my feet, getting broken in, the beautiful red I had wanted from the moment I thought about my shoes.

And that essentially sums up my bridal outfit. There is one last small hidden detail that I have yet to really think about. But that’s likely for another post.

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