Wedding Dress Shopping, Part 1

Apparently, if I'm feeling discouraged about something, I should blog about it. After my post the other day whining about my difficulties running, I went out that afternoon and finally conquered by 25 minute run! I came home feeling amazing, took a shower, and wanted to pass out, but it's ALL GOOD because I did it! Back on the wagon, guys.

So, now I'm going to blog about wedding dress shopping, because it's probably more intimidating than a 25 minute run. When Ren was here, one of our goals was to go to David's Bridal and try on some dresses. Granted, without having our venue completely pinned down, it was unlikely that I'd buy anything at this juncture, but it would still be nice to have a few things in mind and see what does and doesn't work on my body.

Our grand plan to was drink, try on dresses, and drink some more as a follow up. We headed into Manhattan and found the David's Bridal, and as soon as we walked in, I was hit by a wall of white that was very intimidating. A desk was set up by the door for people to "register," but I averted my eyes and ducked to the left side of the store, to the safe haven of bridesmaids' dresses and unassisted shopping. Ren tried to harass me over to the other side of the store, but I mumbled that I thought I was backing out, and eventually I convinced her that it was true. We made a hasty exit and ended up at a Goodwill shop across the street. She tried to talk me into one of the abandoned 80s-style wedding dresses there, but don't worry, it didn't happen.

Of the wedding-planning experiences I will undertake in the next year, dress shopping is both one of my most anticipated and most dreaded. I love playing dress up, as anyone in my family can tell you. E can even complain at length about how many outfits I try on before I leave the house, and how often I spontaneously change clothes midway through the day. When I was little, my mother promised to make me a "wedding dress" and veil out of the white lace shower curtains she was getting rid of, and I was disappointed when they never appeared. I am also a sucker for a gorgeous dress. That said, I don't have the cash to drop thousands of dollars on a 1-day dress, so a lot of things I love on first glance get immediately dismissed for monetary reasons. Apparently, I have expensive taste. I'm not even going to inquire about the designer bridal gowns I was ogling lustfully in the windows of Saks Fifth Avenue today. God they were gorgeous.

On the other hand, though, I am not really excited about an over-attentive salesperson cooing at me while I stand on a pedestal in some fancy frock. Coupled with my desire to put on a show is a moderately severe introversion that doesn't appreciate the attention of strangers. So, the dress shopping experience itself will likely be stressful. Also, that white dress? I'm not really excited about it. I mean, I get it and all. I'm the bride, I'm supposed to be in white. But there's something about that awkward implication of "purity" -- an arbitrary categorization, to be sure -- that, even though I haven't really believed it since I was about 9 years old, is lurking in the back of my head and squicking me out. E's not a fan of the white dress phenomenon, either, and wants to see me in blue, my favorite color. This whole brides-wear-white thing has only been around for a hundred and fifty years, anyway, so it's not exactly as far-reaching a human cultural tradition as, say, marriage.

Which brings me to my most enduring frustration with the wedding dress search: I cannot find a dress in a suitable color! I'm interested in, in this order, grey, champagne, very light blue and white dresses. And even though practically every starlet on the red carpet at this weekend's Golden Globes was in grey or gold or peach, it apparently hasn't trickled down to normal folks' fashionz yet, because I can't find anything anywhere. I'll settle for an ivory dress (which would allow for the awesome wedding shoes I want), but in the meantime I will keep up the search.

And maybe someday, I'll brave a David's Bridal. Maybe. But for real, there might have to be alcohol involved.