A Working, Wedding, Weekend

So, I hardly know where to begin this post. This weekend was full of–stuff. What a generic, rather nebulous word, but it encompasses a lot. First of all, as I mentioned previously, the folks I transcribe for are having some family trouble. It’s a couple with 3 kids up in the Denver area, and the wife’s dad has just been diagnosed with leukemia. Plus, they received quite a bit of work that had been backed up at one doctor’s office, and several of their other transcribers were out, so I told them, go ahead, send it to me. And they did. But it was fine, more $$ coming my way, so that’s good. I got it all done and sent back, but in the meantime, I was supposed to go wedding dress shopping with daughter.
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Oh. My. God.
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I have been married three (3) times, and have yet to go IN a “bridal shop”, so that will tell you how “into” weddings I am. Plus daughter is a VERY picky shopper. I mean, she knows what she wants, which is fine, but then is completely unwilling to compromise until she gets JUST THAT. So, we were both a little on the apprehensive side as we set off for Colorado Springs yesterday around noon.
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Let me just say right now, that I cannot praise the folks at David’s Bridal Shop highly enough! They were beyond awesome. First of all, when we went in, the entire place was just a flurry of fluttering, flapping females. I can’t describe it any better than that. There were the prospective brides, of course, along with mothers, mothers-in-law, grandmothers, aunts, neices, little sisters, potential flower girls, babies, etc. Every configuration of female. There might have even been some lesbians, I don’t know. It was just the biggest estrogen fest you could possibly imagine. Now, I do not really classify myself as “butch”, but when Richard greeted us at the door, a bald B.D. Wong out of “Father of the Bride”, I felt like I was definitely the most masculine person in the room!
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Oh. My. God.
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The first thing they asked us was if we had an appointment. An APPOINTMENT? To look at a dress? Give me strength. No, we sheepishly admitted, we did not, nor did we realize we needed one. Richard asked if 4:30 would be okay. “But we’ve come from Pueblo!” we wailed. Suddenly, it was all fine. We were whisked aside, given a packet of wedding info, etc., and then daughter, who had been looking at some pics of dresses that I had printed out from the internet, and actually LIKED one, asked if they had that one. Richard said no, but then whipped out their catalog, and said they had one that was similar:
Daughter immediately begins to hyperventilate–that’s it! That’s The Dress! We must have it at once! So, we begin to wander amongst the sea of plastic-covered gowns in search of The Dress. She tells me she has already been measured and knows her size, so we head to that section. Blessedly, there is The Dress! We then run back to Richard and tell him we have found Something We Want To Try On. He immediately begins to flutter around, and tells us he has “squeezed us in” since we have c0me so far. We thank him profusely. He says he will turn us over to Amanda, who will do everything we need as far as The Trying On goes. Almost immediately, Amanda is there. She is a very pleasant young woman, completely unflappable. Daughter tells her we may have found The One. We lead her to the rack, and she pulls off The Dress and leads us around to the back of the store through prospective brides and their families stacked 3 or 4 deep in front of huge floor to ceiling mirrors. We have a dressing room! Amanda then begins to ennumerate all of the other things we will need in addition to The Dress. There is The Bra and The Slip, to begin with. Not to worry, she has them in her handy storeroom. While she goes to find The Foundation Garments, we go and look for The Shoes. Daughter is tall and fiance is about 2″ shorter than she is, so we first look at ballet flats, but then she spots some little slide on sandals with about a 1″ heel, with rhinestone straps. Even I admit they are cute. We are good for The Shoes. When Amanda comes back with The Foundation Garments, we ask if she has The Shoes in daughter’s size. She does, and it all goes into the dressing room. Amanda and I wait outside. First, we must exchange The Bra, and then after much rustling, daugher emerges, asking for a zip up. The Dress is a wee bit snug, so we ask Amanda if it is available 1 size up. She runs to see. We wait, watching women step up and down on pedestals to model varous gowns in various colors. I notice that virtually every single dress I see is strapless (as is The Dress). I give great thanks that *I* am not the one seeking A Dress today, because I personally loathe strapless anything.
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Shortly, Amanda (Goddess bless her) is back with The Dress in the right size. Daughter gets it on, along with The Foundation Garments and The Shoes. She comes out of the dressing room, and gets up on the pedestal. I have to admit, the dress is lovely, very classy and elegant. With The Shoes, the front of it is about 2″ off the ground and Amanda says they can add an extension to make it reach the floor, but daughter says she likes that way now that she sees it, and declares that THIS IS THE DRESS. She does not even want to look at another one. THIS IS IT!
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Oh. My. God.
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COULD it be this easy? But then, there are The Accoutrements. First, we are shown The Veil. I immediately decide that I shall go into the wedding veil business. She tries on a discreet, single layer of netting with some Swarovski crystals along the edges. The price tag: $200.00. TWO HUNDRED FUCKING DOLLARS FOR FISHNET!!!!!!!!!
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Oh. My. God.
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I can see paying upwards of $500.00 for a dress. There is a lot of work that goes into it, the yards of fabric are expensive, and it is THE symbol of the wedding, almost more than the ring. But TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR FISHNET??? No, I don’t think so. I SO do not think so.
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But, the veil definitely completes The Look, and then Amanda places a small, tasteful “headpiece” just in front of where the veil sits. Not a tiara, but just enough “sparkle”. Yes, we must have The Headpiece. We will discuss The Veil later.
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Daughter turns and poses a bit more on the pedestal. Surprisingly, I do NOT get teary. I thought I would, but while I am very happy to see that she really, REALLY likes The Dress, and she looks beautiful in it, it doesn’t get me sniffly. I imagine that I will save that for The Wedding.
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So, it’s decided. We will have The Dress, The Bra, The Slip, The Shoes, The Headpiece, and “A” Veil if not THE Veil. Daughter steps down to go get back into her real clothes. As she goes into the dressing room, I whisper the price of The Veil to her. She looks back at me, goggle-eyed. I nod. She changes in a moment, then asks Amanda if she has some other veils. After several moments of looking trying on, and matching up with the beading on The Dress, we settle for The Veil that is $79.00. Still about 10 times what a piece of fishnet is worth, but definitely better than $200.00. I can live with that.
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We then progress to the front of the store to check out. This whole process has taken maybe an hour. Daughter and I are both stunned. We cannot believe it. We are nearly done, and we have not even disagreed over anything! While we are waiting, I realize that she now needs The Purse and The Garter. Naturally, we find them both, in the right colors, and on sale (well, The Purse anyway). While we are waiting for a register to open, Amanda tells me about their own David’s Bridal Card that will allow us to do a no payments/no interest on this haul for 12 months. I agree to do this, as daughter of course has no credit, but she will be able to pay on this for a year. All in all, it is not a bad deal. I also spring for The Garment Bag that will protect all of The Items from the ravages of air and dust. Once The Ensemble is rung up, the total for everything is actually less than the price of another dress she had looked at earlier in another town before she told me about the wedding. So, we are very happy about that. We are gushing. We are glowing. We invite Richard and Amanda to the wedding. We leave, carrying The Loot, and go celebrate by having lunch at Chik-Fil-A, which, alas, they do not have in Pueblo, and which we constantly miss from living in Atlanta, where Chik-Fil-A was invented.
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Oh. My. God.
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Life is good.
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GG
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