By Rachel Gatulis, For The Baltimore Sun
11:59 AM EDT, October 3, 2012
I work in a building shared by a very well-known bridal boutique. I always have to laugh when I leave work and a group of grown ladies are jumping up and down, squealing together on the sidewalk. Typically, this means that someone in that group is getting married and they just found THE dress. It cracks me up every time.
After a few trips to some bridal stores and flipping through a few magazines, I thought I had found the dress I wanted to wear for my wedding. There were a few contenders. Of course, I agonized over this decision, as with any decision in my life, and finally decided I would be happiest with a classic look that was impossible to get sick of.
I told my mom she had to come down and give me her input. In hindsight, I really just needed her to back me up on this decision and maybe shed a tear to reassure me that I looked like a real, live bride. She obliged despite her strong dislike for clothes shopping (food shopping, she can do!). We took a trip to different boutiques and tried on several dresses as a last hurrah before showing her the dress I was planning on buying.
After dabbling in Gamberdella’s, we hopped in the car and headed to Betsey Robinson for the main event. Mom did not disappoint. Her eyes teared up and I knew this could be it. Despite getting the desired reaction, a million questions ran through my head. Was the dress boring? Would I still love it come June 1? Will I be too hot in it? Would Andrew like it? Why all the opposition? I thought dress shopping was supposed to be the fun part!
I took a day to think it over and sent my mom back home to Boston. After polling everyone who crossed my path the next day, I finally decided on the dress. After all, it had pockets! I went up to Betsy Robinson after work and paid my non-refundable deposit. I did the standard happy dance. Although, my version was solo, in the car, on the way home.
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