I love planning our wedding. I go to sleep visulising how I'm going to dress our venue. I trawl through blogs and magazines looking for gorgeous pretty things to put a personal stamp onto our special day.I have even taken to taking handfuls of those little strips of paint colour cards you get in DIY shops to work out what colours work well together. Themes dominate my thoughts, and the TV is permenantly tuned into Wedding TV, just incase something jumps out at me and it's noted down into my little blue book that's almost full to the brim with lists of ideas and inspiration!
There is one aspect of our wedding however that fills me with dread.Choosing a wedding dress. The mere thought of it brings me out in a cold sweat! To be brutely honest...I don't like the way I look! I totally lack confidence, and there are few, if any bits of me that I like! I am petite, but only in height. Quite the opposite when it comes to width. Everything wobbles. I'm sure in a wobbliness competition I would beat a jelly hands down! My legs are permenantly under wraps.I have a whole varicous vein motorway system etched from top to bottom. I don't even like my toes! I only allow photos to be taken of me from shoulders upwards. A photographer is going to have to be very persuasive to get me to agree with taking photos below this point. In fact I would be happiest if I wasn't in the photos full stop! That would be a first wouldn't it! The only set of photos that featured just the poor old groom,whilst the bride goes into hiding. Poor Mr R!
Enough of this self pity, and on with my story! I had a lovely girlie day out in Bristol yesturday with my dear friend Katherine. We decided not to have official bridesmaids, so she's one of my unofficial "Best Girls".There to help and support me in my hours of need, but doesn't get a posh frock and is allowed to sit with her hubby. She knows that I am a nightmare when it comes to buying clothes. I see clothes I love, but refuse to try anything on because I know that they'll just look awful on me anyway,so what's the point!
I had an idea that at some point of the day, the dreaded dress word would rear it's ugly head.I wasn't expecting though to be shoved through the door of a bridal shop and basically told to stop being a prize wuss! I must have looked petrified or why else would the assistant take one look at me and declare..".Ooh a scared bride, my favorite type"!! Now if I was your average much younger bride, my assistant would pass for a rather lovely mum. For me, she was like a big sister. She took me under her wing, led me by the hand (metaphorically speaking) and took me into a whole new world of tulle,satin,silk and sparkle. I told her that I was only there to look. "Poppycock" she said"You are here to take your first little step in finding your dream dress and you can't do that by just looking at them. Have a bit of fun and try a few on!" If it hadn't been for my pal who had at this point barred the only means of escape, I would have been through those doors as fast as my fat little legs could take me!
My lovely assistant asked me to describe my dream dress. I duly obliged and described the lacy, empire line vintage frock that in my opinion would be my dreamiest of dream dresses. "Like this" she said as she pulled out a very dreamy dress. How on earth did she know that that was exactly what I had in mind! So, with extreme trepidation she led me behind a curtain and promised me faithfully that she would help me into the dress with her eyes closed! I looked awful! An overfilled sausage about to explode! The lace did nothing for me, nor did the style. I could have cried!
She then produced another dress.A dress that I wouldn't have looked at twice on the rail because it was the style of frock that you see on every other bride, and I wanted something different. It was strapless,embelished and had folds of materials this way and that. But I had to do what I was told and forced myself into the dress. My lovely lady then pulled away at ribbons until I could barely breath, but a miracle had happened. I was bump free,had smooth lines and amazingly,developed a waist. I was well and truly gobsmacked!I would be stretching the truth a little to say that I felt like a princess. Queen mum yes,princess no, but I was rather taken by what I saw in the mirror.
So, I agree that I need a structured dress, and I agree that I need folds of material to hide my imperfections. But I still want a vintage look, and I really can't get my head around strapless.Trying on wedding dresses is fun and needn't be stressful. I can't wait to hit the bridal boutiques again. I just wish that I can take my lovely friendly assistant with me, and most importantly remenber to not wear my tattiest of undies.Yesturdays undies were,I'm afraid to admit, pants!!