The biggest and scariest moment of all has come and past. One, just once trip to the bridal boutique is all it took. One trip for a matter of nearly 3 hours and the job was done. We went to a lovely little boutique that was just the right size – not too small to have the spot-light shining solely on me; yet, not too big to get lost in the sea of brides – or for the most part.
With my mom on my right and my bfotb on my left, I entered the boutique with butterflies in my stomach and a planner in hand. Oh, the excitement, nerves and cluelessness mixed together as I was introduce to my to-be counterpart and led to my pedestal. 16. A fine number. Perhaps the foresight of the number of dresses I would try on before I found the one.
From the moment I took a seat on the chair, the luxurious attention and specialty began. My BFOTB was taking my jacket before I got it off, my consultant learning my every want, desire and dislikes as well. The butterflies continued to flutter as I walked up to the dressing room and closed it. There I stood. Me and a dress. The dress that could quite possibly be mine.
The moments shared between friends and mom and daughter were memories to be kept for a life time. The moments of brutal honesty, almost right and the down-rite undecidedness filled the few hours of dress shopping.
I could not have picked a more perfect day or the more perfect guests to accompany on my experience. The moments I felt as if it was not going to be a success, my thoughts were quickly supported with a new comment, dress or thought on accessory piece. The dress was not easy to come by, but once I narrowed it down to 3, it was a bit easier to find the dress I was not only me in, but that I felt like a bride in.
The moments spent on the pedestal were both short and long. If the dress was an automatic no – taffeta, almost always led to an absolute no – I was off the pedestal before I could land both of my feet on it. On the other hand, I lingered on the pedestal to admire the beauty of the dress, the detail, the fit; admire the bride staring back at me in the mirror. While, it would have been a bit easier had I worn contacts for the day. Meh, I made due with the constant on-and-off of my dark-rimmed glasses.
I can’t say that it was instant. Nor, that I knew the one was the one the moment I put it on. I blame it on my indecisiveness as I hardly ever can make a concrete decision. But as I stood on the pedestal, veil atop my head, jewelry adorned, I watched as the spark in my eyes became a glimmer in my smile as well as my bfotb’s and mothers.
Elated in tears and the release of anxiety, pressure and stress of making a decision, I stood atop the pedestal in my dress as I claimed the choice my final decision with a ring of a bell. As if it couldn’t get any better, the dress chosen, my dress, was on sale! Everything happens exactly how it is meant to be. This dress was mine for a reason, and I now know why. Because I looked gorgeous in it, I felt comfortable and confident and, well – I can’t lie, it was nice to know it was on sale!
Many have asked for a photo or details of my dress; however, I’ve been weary of showing them. I’m not quite ready to let my dress be revealed. I want to capture it for all its worth. I want the excitement and element of surprise to fest within me and blow them all away as I walk down the aisle. So, save your breath, no one has seen or heard details of my dress other than the BFOTB and MOTB. What I can say is, now its onto detailing the dress and my complete appearance…