Wedding Blog

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

I need to preface this post by saying that this whole thing has been a total tease. I am not going to reveal my dress. Mr. Peacock has been adamant about not wanting to see it. He subscribes to the Weddingbee feed and he is slightly absentminded in his internet reading habits, I have a feeling that he might accidentally stumble upon it. He would be very sad.

I did go to one more new dress shop- the Vera Wang salon on Oak Street. I brought a whole gang- my mom, my sister and one of my bridesmaids. I had a feeling that I was going to need a team to get talked out of a particular $15,000 VW Luxe dress.

Drool.

Since the VW salon would not allow me to take pictures, I asked these very unhappy 14 year old girls to model the dresses for me. They all showed up without washing their hair or putting on make-up, but since I was on a time crunch, I let it slide. They were also so hungry that I was worried they would eat me.

This is Mrs. Strawberry’s dress. She looked WAY hotter in it.

The very friendly owner of the salon (who looked just like Charlotte York Goldenblatt, down to the pearl earrings and Chanel suit) joined us for the appointment. She was helpful and studied my face while I wore each dress. Based on my reaction, she nixed each of these dresses, one by one. She then pulled out THE DRESS. I put it on. I loved everything about it- the feel of the fabric on my skin, the way is swished when I walked and the look on everyone’s face when I came out of the dressing room. It was unlike any other dress that I had ever seen. I wanted to run out of the store and down Oak Street, jump in my car and peel off to Canada. I was not giving that dress back. I was totally sold… and then the owner started talking.

She started selling me on how wonderful the dress was and how great it looked on me. A series of unnecessary compliments followed. The color was great for my gorgeous skin. The bodice accentuated my tiny waist. My previously non-existent cleavage was rocking. She then told me that “it is perfect for a {insert my program here} PhD student.” I’m sorry, what?! What the heck does that mean? It means “I am going to say whatever I need to so that you will buy that dress.” I started to doubt myself. Everyone was still smiling at me and I still loved THE DRESS, but was I just being talked into it? Was I just a sale? I reluctantly took it off and told them that I needed to think about it.

The more I thought about THE DRESS, the more I wanted it in my hot little hands and the less I wanted to buy it from that store. I remembered that Macy’s also sold Vera Wang gowns and for fun, I gave them a call. I have some strong anti-Macy’s sentiments and until that moment I was participating in the boycott. The thought of getting a deal on my dress put me over the edge. I decided that if they could cut 15% or more, I would buy it from Macy’s. Otherwise, I felt confident that the difference in customer service would make up for the price difference. Here is how the phone call went between me and Ronia at Macy’s- aka, my angel.

Me: Do you have a Vera Wang dress with x, y and z?
Ronia: I think so. Can you email me a picture?

One hour later….

Ronia: We have it and our price is 10% less than the price at the VW salon.
Me: Hmmm… I need to think about it. I was hoping for more of a price break.
Ronia: Well, we do have a sample of that dress. It has barely been worn and it is in your size.
Me: {silence}
Ronia: We can give you 50% of our price for the sample.
Me: {silence}
Ronia: Are you there?
Me: Uhhhh…. yes. I will be there in an hour. {Tires screaching, cash register ringing, blonde girl goes happily bouncing down State Street with a huge white garment bag}

That is how my dream dress became mine- it was perfect for me, in my size and on sale.