That is what Meghan tells me, anyway.
The Dress. THE dress. It took an hour drive, two and a half hours with a bridal salon all to myself, and about 11 dresses, but ‘the dress’ has been located. It wasn’t the dress I, or anyone else, was really expecting. But it stood out from the others with all the clarity of a vividly remembered dream — like a lock with all the tumbers clicking in to place.
It’s way more ornate than I thought I would go with. I worried that it was too ornate, too frou-frou, too overdone, too cliché. And yet, it was gorgeous. I was afraid that the dress was going to take this wedding places I didn’t want it to go. Meghan assured me that when I started getting in to Princess Diana territory, there would be a great big sign saying, “Danger, Cliff Approaching!” Yes, I asked her, but would that sign be hidden behind a tree?
My mother is convinced that this dress requires tuxedos for the civilians and mess kit for the Father of the Bride. I fear that that is the sign Meghan told me I would see. Neither I nor Meghan nor Jenn nor Bonnie the Bridal Lady thinks that tuxedos are required here; a nice crisp black or charcoal grey suit would be just as complimentary and a little more modern.
In the event that Jim sneaks on to the blog, I won’t describe the dress here. May it suffice to say, the train goes on forever and the color makes me glow, and the details are charming. My vision of the wedding style has shifted a little back toward my original fantasies, but I think that I can pull it off. Just have to convince Jim that my ideas are good ideas.
No, just kidding. I don’t have to convince him of anything. He’s a really good sounding board and he has helped some of my fledgling ideas evolve in to real ideas. Too bad I can’t get him to do that for my artwork. 😀