Yes. I have officially done the whole "dress shopping" thing, you guys. I did it and I'm still standing, so that's just bombtastic. Let's start from the beginning.
I spent the night before the Shopping Day freaking out. I was compiling spreadsheets and adding to my wedding binder, poring through bridal magazines and reading up on what to expect from my first time shopping for wedding dresses. I was sooooooo ready to be a total freak about everything.
When I got to my parents house on Saturday morning, my mom, my sisters and my niece were waiting. WITH MIMOSAS. Maybe this won't be so bad. We slugged back the breakfast of champions and then Padrin, my maid of honor, announced that she had little treat bags for us. Inside, there was a water bottle with a custom label that said "WILL SHE YES TO A DRESS?!" and a Snickers and all types of goodies. I also got a tiara. And then there were also little chalkboards. We were all, "What's with the chalkboards?" And Padrin was all "We're going to use them to rate the dresses!" You guys? I didn't like this idea...I LOVED IT.
So, off we went. The first stop was a bridal boutique in downtown Minneapolis. I got the full treatment there. We shopped through dresses, plucking out all kinds of fits and styles and price ranges. One major issue affected the experience. The little curtains that are supposed to block off the dressing rooms were like 2 inches too narrow, so I kept seeing people stroll by outside while I was prancing around doing little "I'm trying on wedding dresses!" dances. After I noticed the gaps in the curtains, I wanted to be like "SPEND $5 ON ONE MORE YARD OF FABRIC, STUPID BOUTIQUE!"
But whatever, I got in the first dress and it wasn't nearly as scary as I thought. In fact, it was FUN. I'd parade in dress after dress in front of my captive audience, welcoming the 1s, 2s and 3s on their chalkboards.
Now, I'm not a sample size. Which sucks, because it seriously affected the selection of dresses I could try on. I'd squeeze into some and get jumper-cable-clipped into others. Then I slipped into one that FIT. It was pretty and blingy and tulle-y and great. AND IT FIT. I finally stood in a dress, in the mirror and felt like a bride. A PRETTY ONE. I felt one tear slip down my cheek and by the time I went out to show the judges, I was full on crying. I couldn't stop myself. Then everyone else cried and they put a veil on me and it felt like I might have found The One. But when I got back into the dressing room, I was all "It can't be this easy. I have spreadsheets and pictures and folders and a onesheet."
I couldn't seal the deal. I wanted to try on more dresses. I wanted more lace, more praise, more attention. I was having so much fun with my mom and my sisters and my niece that I just couldn't let it end after one store. So we decided to keep hunting. Instead of heading to another boutique with expensive dresses that wouldn't fit me, we decided to cancel that appointment and head to The Gap of wedding shops.
Before we went to David's Bridal, we thought it would be good to load up on lunch. I scarfed down a giant taco salad. It was NOT a good idea. Full of carbs and guacamole, I tried slipping into a bunch more dresses. Oddly enough, it was more difficult than before lunch.
But I tried on a bunch of different dresses and found one that I loved. It was a little snug (stupid guac!) so the lady handed me these like RUBBER SPANX. I wanted to come out of the dressing room in just the rubber pants and the corset bra, exclaiming "I'M SAYING 'YES' TO THIS DRESS!" But I didn't want people to return all their tacos and rice all over the place.
Anyway, the dress looked amazeballs and it was just like the ones I had been pinning and tagging and ripping out of magazines. I loved it. But again, I was like "It's too soon." Plus, everyone was worried that there were no tears this time around.
So, I didn't get a dress. YET. I know what I want now and, more importantly, I know what I DON'T want now. And what I DON'T want is to wear rubber pants ever again.