Yay Bride Parade

Yesterday I spent the day helping Jenny pick out a wedding dress. In all my years of extensive shopping/fashion expertise, wedding dress shopping has yet to come across my path. I know about Vera Wang and Monique Lhuillier, but when it comes to actual, real-life bridal attire, I am far from well-versed. However, my friend Jenny called upon me and I am never one to leave someone in a fashion lurch.

Also on board were Neighbor J, another tres chic hot chica with no wedding dress experience, and Sassy K, Jenny's friend and ex-roommate with great taste, but (surprise) no wedding chops either. So, all in all, it was the blind leading the bride. First stop, a Bridal Superstore. Did you know that such things existed? I didn't. Here's how it works: the bride gets a bunch of dresses to try on, and tries them on in the mirrorless dressing room. With each outfit, she comes out and stands on an ELEVATED PEDESTAL on a stage-like platform in front of a three-way mirror, as the three of us sit in a row of chairs looking on. It was awesome, and I kept secretly wishing that the pedestal would start to revolve. Do you know how the three models in How to Marry A Millionaire did their thing? It was like that, only with bad canned synthesizer wedding music in the background. As Jenny tried on her first dress, the three of us perused the accessories section, and found three bridal cowboy hats with rhinestone tiaras glued onto the brim, and decided to sport them for the rest of the session. My hat was black and sparkly (urban cowgirl), Neighbor J's was white (very Shania), and Sassy K's was pink (a touch of Dale Evans). We looked like a Coyote Ugly ad. Jenny tried on a bunch of dresses, all of which were of the non-traditional, non-white, non-veil-y train-y kind. She was heavenly in all of them.

The three of us did our best to help her out, which mainly entailed a sort of sports-commentator-discussion, complete with the play-by-play, some predictions on outcome, and a complex ranking system. I don't know what came over us, but things like these actually came out of our mouths:

"The black and white one is tied with the champagne one for first, although the brown one may pull ahead later when she tries that on. I'm waiting to see the powder blue halter dress, which seems like a dark horse now, but could surprise us all."

The only thing missing was an instant replay that we could draw on to illustrate our points. The strangest thing about this (and the whole day, really), was that our little group seemed to be the only group having any FUN. There were other brides shopping with friends, moms, boyfriends, and none of them looked happy. There were a couple of meltdowns that happened right in front of us. There were glum frowns, irritated voices, stressed out faces. I'm certainly no expert, but brides seem to be a somber group o' ladies.

Next stop, Macy's department store. We went into the Special Occasion section and Jenny started trying on a ton of stuff there. Jenny's not having any bridesmaids, and so the three of us decided to show her what she's missing. We each tried on a black and white strapless floor-length evening gown that felt suspiciously like spandex, and seemed like an evening gown that Sporty Spice would wear. They were hideously funny, and looked something like this
Horrid, right? Next, we decided to try on a matching set of lavender, beaded, polyester dresses with matching blazers over the top equipped with two-inch shoulder pads. Something like this, to make Rue McLanahan proud.

At the end of the day, Jenny had a cute dress to day "I Do" in, and I got to have an experience that was the closest thing to being a bridesmaid as I think I'm ever going to have. I know there are many of you out there that bemoan the bridesmaids' experiences that you've endured, but count yourselves lucky to have been there, done that. Being there for your friends with unconditional love is the best thing there is. Love, honor and cherish it. A rhinestone cowboy hat is just gravy.

Kiss the rings, I'm out.
Librarian Girl