Not actually a tag, but a blog friend wrote about hers because a friend did and back and back, and now voila I'm thinking about mine.
We got married half-way across the country from where I lived, so to make the alteration process easier on me, I bought it where I lived, flying my mother and my grandmother's check out to me. Buzzkill's mom joined us for a day of shopping.
We had an appointment with a snooty Dallas shop that I now know caters mostly to snooty Highland Park debs. We got out of there toot sweet (yes, I actually know how it's spelled in French).
We found this quaint little place of Routh Street and I tried on everything they had in store in my size. I wanted to get it THAT DAY and not have it ordered. I get paranoid and didn't want to buy I dress I hadn't seen in person.
I was facing away from the big mirror and as I slipped my arms into the sleeves, the fabric fluttering against my skin, I thought, "This is the one." I turned around to face the mirror and what I saw was nothing less than everything I never knew I wanted. It was totally perfect. I capped off the day with a giant glass of white wine. Trust me, I needed it.
I'm pretty sure it preserved in a closet at my folks house for future archaeologists to study and display in a Natural History Museum under "Middle Class Ritual Coupling Attire."
1 comment:
oh that reminds me mine is still jsut hanging there - uncleaned, unpreserved - 7 years later - and I have had to drag it around wiwth us since my parents have moved so much too
your dress was beautiful, by the way!!
love the "quasi-tag"
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