I Say ‘No’ to the Dress.

There is nothing I hate more than trying on wedding dresses. And for my faithful readers, I will cut right to the chase as to why that is.

Behold:

Ten Things I Hate About Wedding Dresses, The Musical (I also hate musicals)

  1. I am a different size for LITERALLY EVERY STYLE / MAKE / MODEL OF DRESS.
  2. The internet is a giant rabbit hole for wedding looks, i.e., Modcloth, JCrew, Pinterest, Wedding Wire, The Knot, etc., into which I’ve fallen for hours and hours.
  3. One look at a dress and I’ve decided this HAS to be the one. Has to be. (It’s not.)
  4. It’s almost June and I cannot stop sweating enough to zipper / button / clasp a dress.
  5. Wedding dress material is extremely uncomfortable and impractical.
  6. Nearly every dress I’ve tried on, on-site, requires alterations.
  7. Alterations, I’ve discovered, cost almost as much as the dress itself (sometimes more).
  8. Every single person has a differing opinion about what is flattering on me and what is not. By every single person, I mostly mean me.
  9. My shoes are the only thing I have ever cared about getting right about the outfit.
  10. The term ‘bridezilla’ actually exists, which describes me the second I walk into David’s Bridal–but only because I want to burn it to the ground in a taffeta blaze of glory.

Now I realize, dear friends, that wedding-dress shopping is most definitely a thing. Otherwise, why would there be several shows about The Quest for the Dress that most women I know watch with rapt attention? It’s an event, a¬†group excursion. Except everyone is tired and I am fickle. Not to mention my attention span is short for shopping as-is. I just dislike any kind of shopping that is not for gifts, jewelry, perfume or books, and all of those I can get online.

Which brings me to my most favorite part of this post: photos. Lest I invite some weird curse for being seen in a white dress before the wedding, I will attempt to fly in the face of my own superstitions. Below, I have compiled¬†a few of my favorite dress failures for your viewing pleasure. And without further ado, here are the dresses I said ‘no’ to (just not to their faces):

  1. The Sponsor’s Dress.

This one gets me. In my high school, traditions were big. One of those traditions was to get young girls in white dresses to parade around in a cotillion-like ritual with guys and their ROTC companies. The irony is not lost on me that as a “sponsor” to my guy’s company–baking cookies and pretending to care about their chauvinistic rituals–I would actually be foreshadowing my role as a real-life sponsor to women in my 12-step program. In a panic recently, I decided to try on this dress to a). see if it still fit and b). attempt to lock down a dress without having to put forth any effort. Shit didn’t fly.

2. The ModCloth Dress

I don’t even know with this one. Even though I exchanged it for a size up, this shit just did not feel good on. Also, it felt juvenile. And the need to get a bigger size launched into effect an ego-feeding frenzy until I finally stopped trying to squeeze into the tinier version.

modcloth

3. The Mommy Dress.

Because I am a sucker for nostalgia, I tried so hard to want to wear this dress. Alas, the 80’s have come and gone. I cannot wear this in good faith to fashion.

4. The $20 Dress.

I mean, it was $20.

20 dollar dress

5. The Random, Unplanned Bridal Store Drop-in Dress.

I drove around town with my mom in a fit of willingness/inspiration, which almost never happens. We stopped at a bridal store in Chester, VA, where I tried on dresses in front of someone else’s family. They oo’ed and aww’ed.

When my mom snapped this first photo, I was literally in the midst of saying, “fuck this.”

***

I guess the answer to this dress saga will eventually be solved. If it doesn’t happen soon, I will choose a white bathing suit and proceed with a mixture of false confidence and madness.

Needless to say, I give a resounding NO to all of the above atrocities.

More to come,

Lucy xx

P.S. Please Google “ugly wedding dresses” immediately. You won’t be sorry you did.

 

Photo courtesy of imgur.com

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The Marrying Kind

I’m beginning to think I’m not the marrying kind.

-Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City


There was once a time in my life where I actually quoted that shit out loud. To other people. Who might have been listening.

In high school and college (admittedly my prime SATC-watching years) I had a recurring wedding dream. I pictured myself walking down the isle toward my groom. Each time, in a full–on black and white filter–he would turn around and all I would see is a faceless man in a tux.

Those were my only wedding dreams.

And here I am, fianced. After all of the years¬†of recklessness with other people’s hearts, I am responsible for this one very important heart. That responsibility is the honor and privilege of my lifetime. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would be planning a wedding at 30 years old with a man I love. Frankly, it surprised me when I made it to my 27th birthday, let alone making it to a life worth living with a person worth loving.

Needless to say, I am a reluctant wedding planner but a willing¬†bridal participant. The level of details that go into a one-time wedding event stultify me. Except¬†for the hours moments I go on Pinterest or get a phonecall from one of my best friends; those tend to be actual fun. Left to my own devices, I would walk my candy-ass to a courthouse and get married in the city of Richmond. I know I’d regret it, so I have to keep reminding myself that I am not the only one whose dreams I need to consider.

Despite the frenetic degree of google-doc’ing, one of the best things to emerge¬†from this engagement is my burgeoning spiritual practice. I’ve maintained a joyful and fun daily yoga practice with the Gaia and Yoga With Adriene online communities. But I realized last week¬†that I needed more. I started meditating again, this time taking my spiritual cues from Krishna Kaur and Gabby Bernstein. I feel lighter and more willing to chill. My yoga and meditation practices commune¬†to bolster my self-esteem.

I still curse a lot, but I don’t want that to¬†ever change.

I maintain that gratitude for where I am today keeps me present. I know that being engaged or planning a wedding doesn’t define me anymore than singledom or marriage ever did or ever will. That knowledge of “enoughness” within me, as-is, remains the second best thing to emerge from this process. I still get caught up in the budgets and the apparent infinity that is wedding color schemes, but it doesn’t mean that I have to stay caught. Loved ones tell me to enjoy the planning process, which I intend to take to heart. Otherwise I will continue to rail against 1). The Wedding Industrial Complex and 2). The Patriarchy.

I am and always will be a compulsive, over-thinking, excitable, loving and inappropriate woman. As it turns out, I am enough.

I am the marrying kind.

 

 

Part 2 Lady St*rdust is Born

Ladies and Gentleman, meet the woman, the myth, the legend–Lady Stardust:

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 I have never seen a more relevant (in my eyes) Halloween costume. I love Halloween because people get to be whatever they want to be in front of everyone. I think we should celebrate Halloween all the time–maybe it would give us all permission to actually be what we want to be without fear of reprimand or scorn. That is, unless, you want to unearth your secret racism or misappropriate cultural stereotypes for your own gain. 

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I’d like to wear more glitter and colorful hair. I’d also like to wear full body suits with high-heeled boots like Nicole did, because I think it would make the world a better place (just like she does). Halloween is a good exercise in the IDGAF mentality. David Bowie created an alter-ego in Ziggy Stardust because he did not give a fuck. His rock star persona made him a rock star because he took outrageous liberties when he cultivated this other-wordly character.

So when I gave no fucks, like Nicole and Bowie, yesterday turned out to be the best Halloween I’ve ever had. I joined my friend Fancie while she officiated a wedding in Chester. We traveled to the couple’s home where they were married in the back yard with their close families and friends. They stood next to the grave they made for their dog “Nicholas Cage.” The lovers were tattooed from head to toe, grinning from ear to ear with excitement and love. It was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen. The couple dressed as devilish ghouls and they looked amazing. They were so nervous, but their vows were heartfelt and I could feel their love for each other. It was an honor to be a part of such a rad wedding celebration. No one questioned the woman dressed as a Pineapple taking pictures for them on everyone’s iPhone.

PineappleThe only thing that trumps not giving a fuck is spending Halloween sober. I am so grateful to have my second sober Halloween in the books. Holidays–even the silliest ones–are tough for recovering addicts and alcoholics sometimes. Every now and again I get euphoric recall about the fun I had getting wasted with my friends. What I have to remind myself, however, is the unfun I had walking home alone getting lonelier and lonelier with every step. Half the time I ended up on some stranger’s couch, confused and disoriented as to how I got there. Even if I started the night out with my group of friends, I almost always ghosted them to stay out later at the bar or to go home with a stranger. I’m sure they were worried about me, but I didn’t have enough others-centered thoughts to care.

I look forward to dressing up for Halloween next year. Maybe in the near-future, I will be dressing up my toddlers in cute costumes. Half the fun of Halloween is getting to see my friends’ children dress as mini cupcakes, lions, Forrest Gumps or elephants. Me as a mother is a real-life costume I wouldn’t mind trying out.

Spookier things have happened.

Featured image courtesy of Popblerd