wedding schtuff: tales from the bridal salon

so, i'm not a floofy, poofy, princess, girly bride.... but i'm open to the idea.

i am a bride!  and it's really weird to think of myself in this context.  a bride, the bride, the bride-to-be.. i'm referred to by my vendors as 'my bride', 'my lovely bride', and it's quite surreal.

i mean, i'm gonna put on the big white (haha) dress, cruise down the aisle, and finally say 'i do' to the man.  in front of god, and 100 of my closest friends.  i've been a bride for just about a year, and i'll be a bride for almost a half year more. . .

some of the best advise i've gotten has been:
"something will go wrong, so what!, this is what will make your day unique and memorable"
"someone WILL step on you, big deal!, you're taking up the whole space in the aisle"
"don't forget to eat!"

but, the best recommendation i've been given, and actually taken to heart has been "enjoy the process!"
well, let me tell you, it is really the one sound piece of advise that i can live by.   true, this is the one event in my life that will ever take this much planning, patience, grace, and time.   time is the biggest luxury, and one spent the quickest!  but, in this time, i find that i enjoy the process.
i like looking at flowers, picking out linen, tasting cake, sampling dinner items... trying on shoes, working on the dress... NOW, the only experience I did NOT under any circumstances enjoy, was the first run of dress shopping.   this was a process i could have avoided.. and here's my cautionary tale.

i went to the beautiful bridal boutique, that as a teenager, I wistfully would window show, gasping in awe at how beautiful and elegant the dresses looked.   in my twenties i would drive by the windows and think, 'one of these days'. . .   and finally in my thirties, the day came!  woo hoo, i had a ring on my finger and i was all set! i wrangled up my momma, to finally go into the shoppe.   after wading in through the tulle, organza, silk, and taffeta, we found our way to the manager.  this woman reminded me of a madame!  ordering around her staff like servants, peppering in a "honey" and a "sweetie" every other word. . .  i explained that we would like to look at the dresses and even try some on.   madame informed me that i needed an appointment, and they could see me in a couple hours, "HONee, i vill penchil you en... kome baak zen"

ok...

cut to my appointment, i waltz in among the dresses, check in a the desk.  i announce i am arrived for my appointment.  madame advises, that my 'gull' will be with me shortly, please look around!   the first rule of etiquette in a bridal shop is NOT TO TOUCH THE DRESSES.. but i didn't get that memo.  lucky me.   the dress i dared to take off the rack, was quickly snatched out of my hands, and whisked away --- poor dress, i actually never saw it again, and now that i think about it, it wasn't even IN my dressing room.  

after a couple hours of trying on soup to nuts in dresses... it was clear to me that THIS was not the experience i had been hoping for.   i did not feel pretty, ethereal, amazing, or bridal-ish.  i gave the signal to my mother, whilst wearing the heaviest article of dress known to man.   (note: when it takes 3 people to get you out of the dressing room and ONTO the platform in front of the mirror, rethink your dress)  they slapped a veil on me, and my left eyebrow started to twitch, then arch.   i made eye-contact with my mother, and tugged my right ear lobe (my universal sign for i'm nearing the end of my patience)  it was time to go!

so we went...  and later that day I found the loveliest wedding dress designer. . .  now that's a process i can enjoy.

bridal boutiques should come with warning labels on the door that state:
"you are about to strip down to your skivvies, in front of strangers"
"you will be tucked, taped, squeezed, pinched, and told you look MAH-vel-us"
"you will be expected to cry and squee, and oooh and ahhh in ridiculously overpriced polyester"
"we will not listen to you, and you cannot touch the dresses"

my guide to surviving the bridal boutique is:
shower, wear clean underwear that cover your ass...  wear pasties, under a strapless bra, and have a round of cocktails with your shopping buddy BEFORE you dare set foot into the store.

got manners?

Oh, my goodness, I cannot believe how ill-mannered we have become.    Ever try hosting a party, luncheon, or other event which requires your attendees to RSVP?  What is your success rate with this?

I was talking to a very good friend of mine the other day, who being the host-ess with the most-ess, about the lack of courtesy guests have with regards to sending a friendly reply to an RSVP request.  I really find it unacceptable and well, RUDE, that in this fantastic information age we cannot politely RSVP properly to an invitation...   eVite, Facebook events, texts.. all of these technological conveniences make it uber simple to advise your host, or hostess that:
Yes, I'll be there
No, regrettably I cannot attend
Maybe, my schedule is undecided

Failing to select any of these on an eVite is just blatantly r-u-d-e in my book.  Please bear in mind, that your host/hostess is planning the event around your attendance with provisions, food, drink, and goodies.

Take a half of a minute, and be polite remember your host thought enough to invite you -- be thoughtful and return the favor.