Finding the One

What is it about wedding dresses that completely levels the playing field for all of us women--no matter what age, what style, what size, what social status? Even if we don't pay a second of attention to clothing otherwise--we all sit up and take notice when the subject of wedding dresses comes up.

And so I was thrust into the quest for the dress--the one that would feel just right, the one that I would immediately know when I put it on to be THE ONE. As surely as Henry is THE ONE to marry, this dress would be THE ONE to wear when I marry him. And as recently as two weeks ago, I would have laughed you out of the room if you said this to me. And yet, experience, which really isn't always a reliable teacher, has taught me differently.

I started looking in earnest about two weeks ago for . . . I wasn't exactly sure what. I was more sure of what I didn't want than what I did: no strapless dress; nothing that might look like I was a woman who wasn't exactly 25 trying to look 25; nothing that wasn't ivory; and no trains or any of the other fru-fru stuff that makes 16-year-old girls starry eyed when they flip through the pages of Bride magazine.

So two weekends ago, I headed out with my all-girl dress posse, Katie and my niece, Elizabeth. We hit a small bridal shop, where I tried on quite a few dresses and learned very quickly that I was going to have to be more open minded about this thing. I did put on one that brought oooo's and ah's from the store owner and Katie, and I was kind of impressed myself. And yet I wasn't prepared to commit so quickly in the process. Our next stop was at a clothing store with a wide selection of formal wear--no traditional wedding dresses. Again, I was very surprised--and torn--when I tried on a dress that on the hangar I was sure was ridiculous. And now there seemed to be two good options. Oh what would I do?

But by Monday, the feelings were gone, just like a bad junior high crush. And my attempts to satisfy this longing in my heart with a quick lunchtime visit to a bridal shop near my office brought only frustration and confusion--and fear as I tried on a dress that was a bit too small and wondered how I would get out of it. From that, I learned that wedding dress shopping was at least a two-woman job.

So I had decided that I was going to start fresh on Saturday with a new addition to the posse--the one person who will always tell me the fashion truth--my mom. We headed out to West Michigan Bridal Gallery, and I nearly turned around and left when we couldn't get into the parking lot for all of the cars. On entering the store, I was handed a card to fill out and asked what I was looking for. I was handed a set of blue shower curtain rings and sent down the aisle of informal wedding dresses and told to put one of the rings on the hangars of the dresses I wanted to try. I would be told when a dressing room was available. Not very romantic, lots of rules, but definitely organized.

While we waited for a dressing room, Katie, who doesn't completely understand that the wedding isn't all about her dress, found about twenty bridesmaid dresses to try on. After what seemed like a very long time, my mom, Katie, and I entered the dressing room and started trying things on. I found a couple that were interesting, but nothing that gave me "that feeling." My poor mom was busy trying to give an opinion on the dresses Katie and I were trying on and re-hanging up our discards. Finally I put one on; Katie was looking at herself, and my mom was trying to make order out of madness. I said, "You guys--look." It was THE ONE, and we all knew it, deep down in our souls. None of us had any idea how to fasten up the back, but I marched out, clutching it to me, to check it out in the big mirror. In the meantime, the woman working there was busily trying to find me the appropriate undergarments, lacing up the back, and straightening out the train. None of it mattered. Not even the price.

And so I left the store, having purchased a dress. I had a quick thought: How will I feel on Monday? Was this just another flirtatious dress encounter? But on Monday, I was pulling up the Website and sending an e-mail with the link to all of my work girlfriends for their approval. And like the true girls they all are, they heartily approved. Who is going to tell their girlfriend they hate her wedding dress?

I was watching a TV show where a mother of the bride was sharing her memories of the weeks leading up to her wedding at a bachelorette party. She said that for a couple of weeks, before the wedding, she would put her dress on every night after her mother had gone to bed and look at herself in the mirror. I don't have my dress yet, so I can't put it on, but I've been visiting it on-line. The feelings are still there, and they're strong. I really think this is the one that will last. (And I'm pretty sure Henry is a keeper, too.)