I’d say it’s hard to pinpoint when exactly I started fantasizing saying, “Yes to the dress.” I mean things started flooding through after I was officially engaged. But for me I guess I remember it was probably somewhere in the middle of me playing with Barbie’s-pretending to have weddings and seeing every chick flick ending in a happily ever after scenario with a bride being whisked away with her handsome groom. Now for most of us, we are probably thinking when does this happen? Why are we thinking this way? Should we be waiting around or take some initiative? Or maybe I don’t need anyone but myself? Why am I letting society tell me how to have a happily ever after? --filling our minds with false realities that get us nowhere except for disappointment. Yes, these are all common thoughts in the mind of every modern girl’s head, but I think the most overriding thought or question when that special question is popped-- is what in the world am I going to wear? Is my style “in?” “Where do I even begin?”
I guess the dress journey started for me on my lunch breaks. At first, I didn’t even know what I was looking for and didn’t even make appointments, just a quick 20-30 minutes in and out type of thing. I soon realized this was all wrong. I realized I wanted to almost practice trying on a completely white stainless elegant dress without me tripping or falling or laughing at myself. YES, I had to practice that. I remember the first time I tried a dress on I nearly laughed out loud at myself looking in the mirror, almost in shock. Is this really happening? I cannot take myself seriously. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? Yes. Yes. Yes. I guess I always imagined a sophisticated dress that I would feel beautiful in with a long train that I would eventually make my MOH (maid of honor) drunkenly bustle in the bridal suite multiple times throughout the reception. I soon realized how much I wanted everyone’s opinions-- my sisters, bridesmaids, friends, even though I probably wouldn’t listen. I knew after all the lunch breaks later not only did, I hate every dress, I craved approval and support from my maids, not some random clerk at a bridal boutique. I needed to have my mother’s input. Not for her to tell me another no in life or that the dress was out of budget, but I needed her to see me in the dress, MY wedding dress. I knew that if she cried it was “the one.” I needed my mother to tell me it was the right dress. I mean truth be told; a bride’s dress does set the tone for the entire wedding.
So, I gathered my Pinterest boards and magazine cut outs and a few glasses of champagne later I had finally had the courage to invite a select few on the wedding dress outing, followed by brunch obviously. I mean if I am saying yes to the dress there has to be a celebration afterwards. At first, I was hesitant, but I soon realized this was another part of the wedding journey. I had to include my squad. It all seems like a blur now, but I remember it being a sunny Sunday and this time I made an appointment. There were a handful of dresses. Long, elegant, sophisticated, lacey, strapless, a-line (whatever that means) you name it they had it. I remember getting overwhelmed stressing over the perfect dress. Would I pick something stylish? Would the dress flatter my body? Am I
trying too hard? Days leading up to the dress outing I had some dreams of me walking down the aisle tripping--oh yes, the worst dreams imaginable. But the second I tried on “the one” and walked out of the fitting room, there was an even better overwhelming feeling that came over me. It was a day I would never forget. One of my life memories locked into my brain forever. Maybe it was walking out and having everyone completely speechless at first, just to have their hands thrown up in complete joy--and yes, my mom cried. That was the day I said yes to the dress.