The wedding bug bit me, but only for a second. A few weeks back I received an email from a Bridal Salon in San Fransisco stating for ONE DAY ONLY they were offering 15% off all their wedding gowns. So I quickly forwarded the email to my mom and sister and asked if they were free that day. Then I forgot about it until the day before when my mom asked me what time we were going. So I quickly picked up the phone and called the bridal salon. I was in luck! They had an opening for me.
The next day we rode up to San Francisco. High blood pressure pangs me every time I go to that blasted city. The traffic getting there is a nightmare and finding a parking spot is another issue. After being nearly 30 minutes late and kissing their feet for still accommodating me, I began the task of trying on dresses.
The kind, young sales woman wearing a cute dress and a sparkly headband asked me a few questions.
“Are you getting married indoors or outdoors?”
“What is your wedding date”?
“What is your budget”?
To which I answered, “I don’t know” to all questions, but the last one. I pulled out a random number from my head for the last question. Because I don’t believe in wedding budgets. Or any budget at that. Budgeting is for sissy’s or people who like to save their money for things like college educations and retirement. Kat Daddy is shaking his head right…about…now.
She gently followed up with, what’s your bra size and shoe size. To which I answered 34 full C cup 34 double A, shoe size 9.
Then I was off on the floor pulling four gowns to start with. You know when you are traumatized and then you look back and can’t remember anything that happened? Well that’s how I felt during this phase of the dress trying on process. I somehow ended up with four gowns hanging in the dressing room, a dainty little pair of size 9 heels, and a tiny white bra. I told her I had big boobs. Obviously she saw right through my padded, water bra with chicken cutlet inserts.
More tomorrow…
