I think. Well, I know I drove to the state of tax free shopping; I know I shopped; succeed........that is debatable. I succumbed to the chain store capitalism trap and landed in the parking lot of David's Bridal. No offense intended to David's Bridal. The parking lot is quite full but if you know me you know I don't readily put 2 and 2 together. Minor details......which opens up whole other quandary. How can someone as anal an I am be so oblivious to the full parking lot equates to full store? What is going on that I don't take that leap? No worries.
So anyway, enter I do. It becomes immediately apparent that every teen age girl in the tri-county area is here to get her prom gown. I hesitate but steel myself because I know, or I have been told, I need to do this. I start towards the back left of the store because that is where the dresses with color are as opposed to the dresses devoid of color which will be worn by the bride. Somewhere between what looked like the "Finance" table with the no payment til 2010 signs and the back left, I want to stop and turn around. I need help! Everything looks like a Prom gown. I tell myself just admit it to the sales girl I have no idea what I am doing in this store full of poof and lace and layers and layers of billowing white satin. No, get it over. So what if I am out of my comfort zone?
OK, I'm walking, I'm walking, OK, I'm turning around, I'm retreating. I am in foreign territory. There is a wall of mirrors that turn and twist to give the best angle. There is a row (or two) of upholstered easy chairs with mothers and girl friends and grandmothers looking on and there are BRIDES in full regalia on the raised circular stands. I feel like I am intruding in a private, special moment. This is their big deal. I am a stranger and shouldn't be ogling at how pretty they look. Truth be told, we have all heard of the horror stories of Bridzilla and I want no parts of it.
The look of despair must have been all over my face as a cute, perky oh so serious, sales girl passes. I don't know if she offered or if I said it aloud. I need help! I tell her I need look at Mother of the Groom dresses and she directs me to the back left corner. Ah ha, so I was moving in the right direction.
This whole thing is really foreign. Prom was 35 years ago and the Prom was not what it is now or if it was I wasn't up to that speed. I am now at the Mother of the Groom dresses. Ms. Perks-a-lot tells me that I may want to look at the bridesmaid dresses as well. Some of the younger mothers choose bridesmaids dresses she says. Ok, so that was either Yeah Me! I am a younger mother and sincere on her part or typical sales girl shop talk. Whatever, it works. I now feel like the younger mother and I am shopping.
I continue on in my confused state. I flip through the rack. One side soft summer colors; the other filled with burgundies, navies, blacks and of course, the glitters. Quick U turn to the softer side. I see some of the ones I saw on the Internet. Something must have been wrong with my laptop or I have amnesia because I am now getting sticker shock at the prices. Alright, you are this far I tell myself, suck it up and dive in. As I flip, I see several I saw on the Internet including the fish scale dress. This is what Morgan (the bride) and I named it when we searched the Internet last week. In unison, we were like no way; who would wear that? Glad to know that I have a little bit of taste. There is the one with the beaded jacket, the one wrap looking style with the bugle beads that would make the girls look voluptuous and the fish scale dress that are in my size....or rather one size larger than I usually wear. I know enough about formal clothes to know you go up one size.
I now need a dressing room. Why do I feel like I am in the laser tag game room? It could be the squealing teeny boppers that are darting in and out and sounding off in the that high pitched squeal. I'm looking, I'm looking, I see Cynthia. She is the second sales girl who helped me and who was so very pretty and so very helpful as she listened to my erratic rant. Cynthia escorts me through the wall of mirrors and upholstered chairs to the fitting rooms. And yes, the fish scale dress is with me.
First the fish scale dress because I am really curious. It didn't even look good on the Internet. To my surprise, it looks pretty good. The Prom Squad even joins in and tells me how great it looks. Back in for #2 and the bugle beads. Nice again but this feels so very heavy. The jacket off is good and the 'girls' look great. Now for #3, straight dress, with almost a v-neck, spaghetti strap look going on. This gives me the muffin top over the back for back boobs and I don't even have it zipped all the way. Cynthia is at the door with the fish scales in another color but I have decided, I have given this the half hearted college try and feel somewhat successful.
I can't wait to call Morgan and tell her I am pretty sure I am getting the fish scale dress. The lines were just perfect to make me look slimmer and make the chest not so offensive.
Cynthia wants to ring me up. OK now, we are going to fast. I can't get the dress until the guys get their tux's and I know colors better. Mother of the Bride is wearing lilac, the bridesmaids are moss and champagne. I think I might make Morgan go with me so I can get her approval as I don't what to compete with the bridesmaids. I write down the name and style number and feel pretty sure I have succeeded.
I am happy. I call Morgan as I sit in my car and she has a sincere OH NO! I think she feels an intervention is needed. I assure her all is well. Damn, I am going to look good. I tried to add the link but was not successful.
It is not that I mind dressing up. What woman doesn't? But being the practical type I say give me back my crocs and sweatpants however, being the realist that I am, I know......fish scales are better attire in a mansion where the wedding will take place than the sweats.