The eyebrows! The hair! The lace all the way up to her chin! Annie Banks knows no bounds!
I've been excited about my wedding dress since I was four and used to wear a tutu on my head (sometimes a pillow case, depending on tutu availability). My plastic bejeweled heels certainly didn't hurt, either.
Living in dresses for most of my childhood - the day when I could don the ultimate dress was never far from my mind.
After procrastinating for weeks because I was afraid I'd look like a carebear, I decided it was time.
Surprisingly enough, Cincinnati hosts a serious bridal district.
Most go on a Saturday afternoon, amidst mimosas and veils and tears (of both the sentimental and tantrum-like nature), where there are rooms barely contained with walls and filled with hundreds of passers by. It's enough to make you sweat.
I mean, why change in a fitting room when you could change at a subway stop in New York City? The upside of the subway station is that you might get some tips.
Since my job requires that I never have a weekend off, it actually worked in my favor when my mom and sister and I went to pick one out on a Wednesday afternoon.
Seriously. If you can go in the middle of the week, GO. There was hardly anyone there. I didn't feel rushed. I didn't feel like an exhibitionist.
I felt like Julia Roberts on the hillside, when she FINALLY doesn't run away from Ike:
I felt like Liv when she looks over at Emma while that wistful Priscilla Ahn song is playing and they're thinking of being friends again:
Thankfully, I did not feel like Tess when she ruined her mother's wedding dress and acted like a total troll:
The associate that helped us was a woman named Tracy. She had wild curls, smelled a little bit like smoke, and had an extremely boisterous personality that I eventually fell in love with. It struck me by how much you really have to understand people to do that job.
Her instincts were quick and she knew when I didn't love one. In fact, she knew better than I did what I wanted. Because she brought a dress to me that was EVERYTHING I said I didn't like and didn't want. And I put it on just to humor her. And then I had that moment where every dress before and every dress after just didn't matter to me. I felt beautiful. I wasn't worried about how my body looked, or which angle was best. I just felt like myself. Only maybe the more formal version.
If nothing else existed and it was just Bryan and I in a field and I was wearing that dress, I'd be happy.
I hope he likes it, too.