BMDs are BFDs

Was there some sort of sporting event tonight that I missed? Oh, the Super Bowl was on? Cool. I didn't watch. For the first time in forever, I found I had no interest in winners and losers and commercials and half-time shows (okay, fine, I DID watch Miss Beyonce tear it up and sing- LIVE - like an absolute diva!). No, I was online ordering fabric swatches and googling dress styles.

No, the wedding dress saga is not over. I mean, MY dress is all locked up and squared away, but there are seven other dresses for bridesmaids that I need to find. SEVEN. And turns out, finding seven dresses is almost harder than finding THE dress. Like, seven times harder. Shopping for BMDs has turned into a BFD.

I figured it would be a piece of cake. I knew what I wanted, I knew the color, the length, the style, I knew I wanted everyone to have their own style of dress, but I wanted them all to look coordinated. What could go wrong?

Everything, apparently.

First of all, seven bridesmaids dresses means seven bridesmaids. (Right? Yeah, I think that's the right math.) And seven bridesmaids means seven opinions. I couldn't believe that everyone didn't fall immediately in love with my vague, abstract, never-actually-seen-before vision of what I wanted in bridesmaid dresses. Could I change the color? Could I change the length? Am I really that set on not having chiffon? During the first shopping trip with my mom, my sisters and my niece, I felt the frustration pounding on the inside of my eyeballs after we plucked the first round of dresses from the racks at the first store. My sisters weren't exactly on the same page as me when it came to style, and the store was obnoxiously limited in colors and sizes.

How hard is it for a bridesmaid dress retailer to carry a range of styles and colors?! Isn't that, like, your ONLY JOB?!

To make matters worse, the girl "helping" us kept insisting that I make all kinds of concessions with what I wanted. Every concern I had or issue I raised was met with the kind of response they must have learned at the "SELL DRESSES AT ALL COSTS. BRIDES ARE CRAZY AND DON'T KNOW ANYTHING" school of sales. It was annoying. We left, empty-handed.

I got home after shopping and just broke down crying. No one liked or could visualize what I want. All I wanted to do was call up TLC and tell them I'm a good candidate for anyone of their bridal shows because I had just uttered, between sobs, "But this is MY wedding! Why can't I just get what I want?" Woe is me.

I started second-guessing myself and the image I've had of my bridal party for longer than I've even known Geo. Should I just change everything from the length to the style to the color of what I want? I've worn lots of bridesmaid dresses in my life. Some I've liked, some I haven't. But I always wore them happily, with the promise that someday I could be the one picking the dresses so I should just do what I want. Then again, why would I want to put my dearest, closest family and friends in something they don't love?

After a night of tossing and turning and analyzing what was really important about this process, I woke up surer than ever that I'm right. Will everyone like it? No. Do I feel bad about that? Absolutely. But, I've heard a saying that "you can't please everyone all of the time." I don't know who the first person to say that was, but I think it's a safe assumption to believe that it was said by someone who was shopping for bridesmaid dress, though.