wedding dresses . . .

When I (Emily) was 16 years old, I had my first job at a wedding dress and tuxedo rental store. Strange coincidence, huh? Now that I’m a wedding blog extraordinaire. At the time, I believed that I would never have a wedding, as I believed marriage was a flawed institution that the government used to keep tabs on its citizens and that people used it for tax cuts. (This was during my pompous “I don’t give a crap” phase.) Seeing all the expensive dresses and floral decorations, I was appalled. Why? Because I was a rebel! An anarchist with fishnet tights and Converse Allstars! I would never succumb to the brainwashing of American culture! Well, I made an awful rebel because my resolve lasted less than a month before I started dreaming of my own perfect wedding. Alfred Angelo stole my heart, and he was never going to give it back.

Dress after dress lay before me, stunning me with exuberant brilliance, the virgin material just dazzling my eyes. They all looked so beautiful and magnificent, waiting for the moment that an excited bride decided it was “The One.” It wasn’t long before I started sneaking into the back room, trying on the newly arrived gowns.

 

 

 Each time a shipment came in, I would squeal, well, like a 16-year-old girl. My boss asked me to steam them and bag them, little did she know I was spending most of my time spinning in front of the mirror, humming Pachelbel’s Canon. Yeah, big rebel.

I became secretly enraptured by the cuts and lengths, the subtle differences between white and ivory, and the way a veil gently caresses bare shoulders.

I was in love.

 I adored everything about wedding dresses, and I began researching gowns, browsing pictures, and studying designers. I was a young, female, Randy Fenoli, if you will. A connoisseur.

 

 

It took a while, however, for me to start appreciating not the dress, but the reason for the dress: love.

When bridal parties arrived to be fitted, women would be chattering anxiously or sometimes crying, while the men would tease each other, attempting and usually failing to tie a bow tie. Everyone was so excited, so zealously happy to be a part of this wedding, this holy union. The bride and the groom were divinely in love and I started to feel lucky, blessed even, to be in the presence of such love. Their eyes glittered joyfully as they prepared for their special day, and I, a young teenager, got to witness the splendor.

 

My heart began to ache for the day when I too could find “The One” dress in which I would marry my soul mate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And now, here you are, getting ready for your own wedding. Amidst all the frenzy of flower arrangements, dress alterations, and cake tasting, take a moment to remember why you are getting married. You are in love. Something so beautiful and pure, that not everyone experiences it in their lifetime, but you are lucky enough to encounter it firsthand. So, grab your partner by the hands, take a deep breath and whisper those precious words, because to them, you will always be “The One.”