It finally happened...like I knew it would. I have promised myself at every step of the wedding planning process that I will not get stressed or crazy and I'll enjoy every moment. I've repeated with mantra consistency to myself and anyone within earshot that everything will be funfunfun! and there will be no bridezilla behavior out of me. Well, this evening I had my first brush with the totally awful she-beast and it was completely terrifying.
Actually, it was a bit like an out of body experience. One moment I was talking to my mom on the phone about ordering my aunt's bridesmaid dress from the 100 year old grandma running the local dress shop and the next I was looking down at my body as I wound myself to near hysterics about the possibility that the dress was ordered in the wrong fabric and oh my gosh that would totally be the end of the world!
For context, picking out bridesmaid dresses has been pretty stressful. And now that it's time to order them, the stress hasn't really diminished. While I was home over Christmas, I took my aunt and my little cousin (The cutest flower girl alive. Seriously.) to a shop pretty close to our house that had the dress at a reasonable price. As soon as we walked in, the trouble began. The proprietor immediately told me that I wouldn't be able to change the fabric of the dress from the incredibly intimidating iridescent taffeta to a much more acceptable satin backed crepe in a really beautiful raspberry color. In all her 40 years in business this had never happened! Having spoken to the company that makes the dress only a week before, I knew she was wrong but I was of course as nice as could be and she agreed to call and check.
The call came in today that I was right and that the dresses could be changed to any damn thing I wanted for a nominal fee (which the charming proprietor suggested they increase because I had quoted the manufacturers price and clearly she wouldn't be making an even greater profit if she didn't charge for the extra work it took to write down three more words!).
So obviously my faith in this woman's ability to navigate us safely through the dress buying process if nonexistent. (As if there is any excuse for the panic I'm about to describe) When I heard that my aunt had placed her order for the dress in crepe. Just crepe? PLAIN crepe? Not satin backed crepe? A fabric that is completely different than what we decided on and that will be gross and terrible and the most hideous thing in the whole world and who cares if we're getting married because the dress will be in the wrong f*ing fabric CREPE??? So after having my mom read the order slip to me 10 times I pulled myself together enough to call the shop just to check that everything was ok.
And, as expected, the charming proprietor of this charming shop once again made me feel like a total idiot. "Yes, of course we know what you want and ordered that. We just wrote down crepe so she'd know not to expect taffeta. You are so damn demanding I don't get paid nearly enough implied."
In retrospect, I think I held it together pretty well. Even if there were several seconds where the thought of a bridal party is mismatched fabrics was nearly enough to make my brain ooze out of my ear.
So long as I can keep all of my freak outs mostly internal, this whole thing will be funfunfun and I won't ever be a bridezilla again!
Actually, it was a bit like an out of body experience. One moment I was talking to my mom on the phone about ordering my aunt's bridesmaid dress from the 100 year old grandma running the local dress shop and the next I was looking down at my body as I wound myself to near hysterics about the possibility that the dress was ordered in the wrong fabric and oh my gosh that would totally be the end of the world!
For context, picking out bridesmaid dresses has been pretty stressful. And now that it's time to order them, the stress hasn't really diminished. While I was home over Christmas, I took my aunt and my little cousin (The cutest flower girl alive. Seriously.) to a shop pretty close to our house that had the dress at a reasonable price. As soon as we walked in, the trouble began. The proprietor immediately told me that I wouldn't be able to change the fabric of the dress from the incredibly intimidating iridescent taffeta to a much more acceptable satin backed crepe in a really beautiful raspberry color. In all her 40 years in business this had never happened! Having spoken to the company that makes the dress only a week before, I knew she was wrong but I was of course as nice as could be and she agreed to call and check.
The call came in today that I was right and that the dresses could be changed to any damn thing I wanted for a nominal fee (which the charming proprietor suggested they increase because I had quoted the manufacturers price and clearly she wouldn't be making an even greater profit if she didn't charge for the extra work it took to write down three more words!).
So obviously my faith in this woman's ability to navigate us safely through the dress buying process if nonexistent. (As if there is any excuse for the panic I'm about to describe) When I heard that my aunt had placed her order for the dress in crepe. Just crepe? PLAIN crepe? Not satin backed crepe? A fabric that is completely different than what we decided on and that will be gross and terrible and the most hideous thing in the whole world and who cares if we're getting married because the dress will be in the wrong f*ing fabric CREPE??? So after having my mom read the order slip to me 10 times I pulled myself together enough to call the shop just to check that everything was ok.
And, as expected, the charming proprietor of this charming shop once again made me feel like a total idiot. "Yes, of course we know what you want and ordered that. We just wrote down crepe so she'd know not to expect taffeta. You are so damn demanding I don't get paid nearly enough implied."
In retrospect, I think I held it together pretty well. Even if there were several seconds where the thought of a bridal party is mismatched fabrics was nearly enough to make my brain ooze out of my ear.
So long as I can keep all of my freak outs mostly internal, this whole thing will be funfunfun and I won't ever be a bridezilla again!
1 comment:
Please, you know that I would not tolerate bridezilla behavior from you. Remember? This is what we have each other for....to tell each other when we're being assholes. That's what friends are for.
I appreciate that you're concerned about becoming impossible to deal with (impossible for others, but most importantly for yourself!) in this planning process, but I promise you that you're much, much, much for sane and pleasant to be around than other brides with whom I have had the pleasure of interacting (I need only mention beaded dresses with hideous, pointed-toe, beaded shoes, no??).
I love you...and I'm so excited for this weddding and to be standing up there with you!
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