Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Saying Yes While Wearing the Wrong Dress

I realize it's not terribly cool to be that girl who has dreamed of her wedding since she was like, seven, but I am totally that girl.

One of the aspects I daydreamed about most? Wedding dress shopping.

My mom, Adam's mom, and I made our first trip out to the bridal shops in late October. My mom and I went a second time in November.

While I thought I had found my dress at our very first appointment at our very first shop, I wanted to be absolutely certain. Plus, I loved trying on wedding dresses.

Loved, loved, loved it.

"You can tell me if you hate something," every stylist told me as I sighed over every gown.

"I don't hate any of them. I love them all," I replied.
But while there were a few strong contenders, only one made my eyes well up and my heart feel big and full.

So in January, off we went to the original bridal shop to try on THE gown. In addition to my mom and Adam's mom, four of my bridesmaids were also able to come along, which was such a treat. Meg (photojournalist extraordinaire) even brought her fancy camera. 

Rachel picked me up for the appointment, and we arrived outside the shop five minutes early. As she was paying the parking meter, my phone rang.

It was the bridal shop calling.

"Hi Jenna? I see you're coming in soon?"

"Um, yes. We just got here. My appointment is at noon," I confirmed, a sinking feeling starting in my stomach.

"Right. Well, we have a problem. The dress you're coming in to try on? We sold it off the rack earlier this month."

"Oh," was my eloquent reply.

"You can still come in for an appointment if you'd like," the associate said.

Seeing as my group was already there (Adam's sister had even flown in from Charlotte as a surprise!), what else were we to do?

I put on a happy face but spent the first bit of the appointment secretly feeling sorry for myself. Who was this girl who had bought my dress? Why hadn't the bridal shop realized this earlier and given me enough time to reschedule for a later date?

Self-Pity City, population me.

Of course, once a bottle of champagne had been popped and I started trying on more gowns (just to be super sure I still wanted the one from October), everything was completely and totally fine. I got to work with my original stylist who was amazing, and I was surrounded by some of my most favorite people.

Adam's mom and sister had even brought me a tiara to wear. So I was practically Kate Middleton for the afternoon.

Naturally, I managed to confuse myself and fall in love with another dress.

"Maybe this is a sign," I said worriedly. "Maybe the shop was supposed to sell the original dress off the rack so I would find this one."

"Maybe," everyone said supportively, though they did not appear convinced.

"Could we alter the back?" I asked the stylist. "It reminds me of strange bathing suit straps."

Note: if you describe the back of your potential wedding dress as having "strange bathing suit straps," it's probably not the one.

Thankfully, the moms were armed with photos of every angle of the original dress.

God, it was beyond perfect.

It was the loveliest, most magical dress in all of the Greater Cincinnati Area.

What had I been thinking?

"I'm saying yes to the original dress!" I proclaimed, wearing the imposter dress that had almost knocked the dream dress off its throne.


We all clinked champagne flutes, and my mom gave a very sweet speech, nearly making me cry.

I then tried for the millionth time to convince everyone I could pull off a dramatic cathedral veil that covered my face.

Once more I failed.


I then got to sign mine and Adam's name and our wedding date on the wall, which really sealed the deal.

The appointment certainly hadn't gone as planned, but yet?

It was as fun and special as I always dreamed it would be.

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