EastGirlsWest

As you may already know, I’ve been married before. And there was a beautiful wedding, and a pretty dress, and a good time was had by all. I was in my 20’s and dirt poor, which made certain aspects of financing the wedding a challenge. But we also had some help (thank you, Mom) - and in some cases the lack of options made decisions very, very simple. For example:

Buying My Own Dress + no $$$ = Cheap Dress

See? So easy.

Now I’m older, wiser, prettier (let’s face it, women in their 30’s are hot), in a different relationship (Dreamy Betrothed) and a more stable economic situation. I am not in a “I’ll spend whatever the hell I feel like spending on my wedding” economic situation, but I can now actually pay my bills which sometimes leads me to convince myself I can live just a teensy, weensy bit beyond my means.

Tay and Angela took me out wedding dress shopping on Friday. Just in the nick of time it seems, because every bridal shop owner told us that dresses need to be ordered 4-6 months in advance of the wedding. (Apparently the seamstress is on a sewing schedule similar to my workout schedule, and then the dress is shipped to San Diego on a glacier.) We went to three beautiful shops, and I tried on the most stunning frocks I’ve ever worn in my life. I felt appropriately fairy princess-like and had a wonderful day (thank you, Tay & Angela).

We knew in advance that the establishments we were visiting carried a few dresses in my price range, but were also aware that most of the inventory would be decidedlly OUT of my price range. As in way out. As in not even close. There was a group decison made before we got out of the car: I should stretch the truth a bit about my budget, and then enjoy trying on the dresses.

We then told ourselves the following lies:

- I was just getting some ideas about what I liked and what I wanted.
- I was not going to fall in love with some dress I couldn’t afford on my first day of shopping.

Can you see where this is going?

I’m telling you, dress after dress made my heart swoon - and my shopping companions were quickly drawn into my web of fantasy. The first moment I crossed over to insanity occurred when I slipped into this dreamy Italian number. It was only two times my intended budget, which looking back now seems almost reasonable. But then I considered selling my car when I put this dress on. Also Italian. Even further out of reach.

Stop number two yielded the most glamorous garment I’ve ever wrapped by body in, followed by what became (for about an hour) The Dress. The Dress was then later replaced by what is now THE DRESS. But we all loved The Dress. I wouldn’t take it off. I tried it on twice. I mentally emptied my 401K.

It just kept getting better and better. Or worse and worse, depending on your outlook.

Our last stop found me simultaneously laughing and weeping in a Carolina Herrera that I have convinced myself I can’t live without. I love this dress, and it loves me back. It DOES. It needs me to wear it. If I own it, I will at last be happy. Tragically, I will also need to sell The Betrothed’s car to get it, and then he will not marry me.

I’m pretty sure I’ve come to my senses.

As we ate lunch halfway through the shopping day, I was sighing over my food, talking through the dresses with Tay and Angela, trying to understand how the lies we told ourselves were just that: lies.

“Well,” Tay said. “It’s kind of like going to the pound and telling yourself you’re not going to get a dog.”

So true. I really, really want a dog. But since it looks like I’m not going to get one, I wanted to at least post the evidence that I spent some time getting to know the dog, and that I looked really, really good wearing it.