The Contenders, Part II

In my previous post, we got acquainted with three lovely dresses. BM Tanya recommended from experience that I try on at least one dress that was totally different from what I thought I wanted. I've learned over the years to heed her advice, and as such pulled Sabine from ML's Fall 2010 collection off the rack:

(source)

The model above really doesn't do the dress justice:

(source)

That's more like it! I would have never, ever considered this dress because of my height. I felt like a ballgown would make me look like bride of the Stay Puft Marshmellow Man.

(original picture source)

Sabine was actually the first dress I tried on at the boutique, because I thought "meh, this won't work anyhow." I was wrong. So, so wrong.

When I stepped in front of the mirror, both hands came up to my mouth and my heart skipped a beat. There was no drowning in tulle. No antipathy. My mom started to cry, which then made me cry. All I could say was "Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh." In my head I was panicking, because this wasn't Monet. This was the reaction I--and everyone else--was supposed to have to Monet. Not Sabine. Head spinning, I went back to the dressing room and numbly tried on Scarlet, Dolce, and Noel. Finally, it was time to finally step into my coveted Monet.

(personal photo from another bride)

She was light, airy, and romantic, just like I dreamed. My reaction to this dress was the opposite of that to Sabine. No shock. No tears. I felt serene and utterly calm. It felt like me. I could see myself getting married in this dress. However, because the reaction wasn't there, I started to second-guess myself and felt utterly confused. Monet, or Sabine? The initial shock of seeing myself in Sabine may have stemmed from the fact that it was the first dress I had tried on with a veil. Many a Hive member have said that they didn't feel like a bride until they had a veil on, but I didn't realize the power that gauzy piece of fabric held until this day.

I gathered up my senses and my crumbling confidence, and walked out of the salon without a dress. I needed time to process what had happened, and now was not a time for buyer's regret.


Were you blind-sided by a dress when searching for "the one?"