Most little girls dream of the day they will meet Prince Charming, have a grand princess wedding and live happily ever after. I’m not sure that I vividly recall doing such a thing, but I bet it’s safe to assume that someone who loves all things girly and pink probably did as well. I get the feeling that my fantasy more closely resembled Pretty Woman because as girly as I am, I have never wanted to look like a princess or wear a any sort of ballgown.
Just ask my mother. I have never worn something normal to a formal event in my life. If only my mom knew how to use a scanner, I would present you with photographic evidence. For goodness sake, I wore shorts to my senior prom. Oh, the dismay of the faculty’s wives. It’s safe to say that I marched to the beat of my own drum and never wanted to show up in the same thing as anyone else. So, it came as no surprise to anyone who knows me that I felt the same way about wedding dresses that I did prom gowns.
I remember seeing an Hermes dress in Hampton Magazine a couple of summers ago that was little more fabric than a tissue. I marked the page and let my girlfriends know that was what I would be wearing as I walked down the aisle (who I would be marrying was not important). At this point in time I thought I knew two things: I would be married on the beach and true to form would wear something far from fussy.
When I set out looking for a wedding dress recently, I had something really special in mind. I’d done my due internet diligence just like all good brides to be (… and basically every girl I know) and concocted a “vision” in my head. I had my heart set on something a bit offbeat, preferably by Jenny Packham. I absolutely did NOT want to look like a frou-frou bride. As a matter of fact, I really didn’t want to look like a bride at all.
Last week while in NY (because I can not imagine wedding dress shopping anywhere else), a friend called in a favor and scored an appointment at a “fab” bridal salon. We rushed right over (a few proseccos in) and got started. After filling out some minor paperwork, we were ushered into a curtained dressing room and I spoke with my fairy dressmother about what I envisioned. Immediately she got it. I loved her after two minutes of speaking with her. She also had an obsession with Jenny Packham and all things off color. We were like wedding dress soulmates.
I stripped down (thankfully, I’m not shy) and the fun began (mind out of the gutter). There was Marchesa, Monique, Vera, and Jenny to mention a few. She gave me exactly what I wanted, but then brought in a few things that she thought I might want to try. While I literally loved everything I’d tried on prior, I was shocked when I fell hard for a dress I would have never picked off the rack. I couldn’t hide my smile once I was all zipped in and everyone knew that just like my fiance, this was “the one.”
I walked in wanting one thing and left wanting something completely different. Hm… so is the story of my life. I will still be reciting my vows seaside despite my change in attire… at least I got something right.
P dot S: I will reveal my fairy dressmother as my wedding day approaches. Heaven forbid anyone have… gasp… the same dress as me.