I tossed and turned most the night, which is pretty typical for me, but this was different. Rather than greeting the day feeling groggy and in desperate need of coffee, I had a million butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I knew it was going to be a long day. A long day of trying on wedding dresses.
Let me tell you, it’s draining. Guys have it so easy. I don’t know what was more exhausting, the constant pouring of champagne, lifting 100lb dresses or the emotional stress of picking just ONE dress. ONE, that’s it, and once you commit, it’s done, no going back.
If you know me at all, I am probably the least decisive person in the world. I will change my mind at least 100 times before I come to my final decision, usually based on my fiancés recommendation, so you can imagine how difficult this was for me.
So, my Saturday morning began with brunch, including a mimosa, and a side of nerves. When I got to the first bridal shop, the bridal consultant sat me down and started asking me questions like how many bridesmaids, address, phone number, etc. I was shaking like crazy.
They must have been able to tell I was nervous because they quickly poured me a glass (plastic cup) of champagne. That actually made me even more nervous. I knew when they handed my mom champagne in a plastic cup, her opinion of the store would already be made, and it would’t be a good one. Of course, I was in such a fog, I left mine behind. So much for calming my nerves.
The bridal consultant then set me free to choose from over 100 different dresses.
What am I doing? I don’t know what I’m doing. That’s all that was running through my head.
It’s not like going to a store and choosing dresses off the rack. Nope, not at all. I tried to lift one and almost fell over. These things are so heavy! How in the world am I going to be able to dance? Weight training begins tomorrow.
Well, after wandering the store, still overwhelmed, I had a good selection of dresses, or so I thought. I climbed into the first one and took one glance at myself in the tiny little mirror in the dressing room and let me tell you, if the butterflies in my stomach had feet, they would have been kicking my insides around like a soccer ball. It looked awful. I had to go out there and model this ugly dress in front of my mom and two best friends and I knew I hated it. It was going to be a long, long, long day. As soon as I walked out and got a glimpse of my mom’s face, I thought I was going to throw up. I held it in because I didn’t want to ruin this dress and have to pay for it. Word to the wise, dresses look much different on the hanger than on a person.
Dress after dress and finally I found it, the one I loved. Well, at least I thought. But you have to keep your eyes open because the right one might not be in front you the first time around. After about 10 dresses, I narrowed it down to 2. Great! Now I have to make a decision. I had another appointment at a different boutique, so we left and analyzed the pictures over drinks. I thought my heart was set…until…
The second boutique, Calvet Courture, blew my mind the moment I walked in. I wasn’t as nervous this time around, but we were still offered a round of champagne, in an actually champagne glass. My mom said she was going to pass, until she saw the actual champagne glass. The vibe was so chic and personal, contrasting from the last one which felt cramped, overwhelming and a little rushed.
Had me at the Tiffany Blue walls
Even though I thought I had made my mind up on my dress, I was ready for round 2. The first 2 dresses I tried were so-so, but the third one I tried quickly raced into first place. There were just a couple little things I didn’t love about them, but after expressing my concerns to the consultant, she disappeared and came back with a couple more dresses.
Quick sip of my mimosa between dresses. Don’t worry, this is THE dress
And then it happened, I found a dress that made me feel like a princess.
But just like I had fallen for one previously, I knew I should continue trying dresses, just in case. I had mostly been trying the same style, but it was the wildcard, the one I hadn’t even seen the first time I perused the store, the last dress, that stole my heart. It’s amazing how your heart can be stolen when you least expect it sometimes. This was it. I said YES to the dress.
I’m a little obsessed, I probably look at the picture of the dress 100 times a day, imagining how it will look when it is tailored perfectly for me. The only problem is, I also keep glancing at my second favorite dress and the anxiety kicks in, did I choose the right one? On a scale of 1-10, the dress I bought is a 10, but my second favorite is easily a 9.9. Such a tough choice and such an exhausting day. Can I just sleep for a week now?
That’s why that evening called for a girls night; Italian food, more champagne and Pitch Perfect!
