When we left off, I had found a swoon-worthy dress, my friends were smiling wide, and MamaChips had a frown on her face.
So I tried it on once more, and while MamaChips fiddled with the back, I turned toward SistahChips and had this telepathic conversation:
Me: Mom doesn’t like it.
SistahChips: I know. This is so My Senior Year Prom Dress all over again.
Me: I can’t get it if Mom doesn’t like it. I’ll never hear the end of it.
SistahChips: You can’t get it if Mom doesn’t like it. You’ll never hear the end of it.
Me: *beginning to tear up a bit* Damn I like this dress!!
MamaChip, meanwhile, hoisted the straps up (I have the shortest torso in creation) and rearranged the train.
“It’s pretty,” she said, but I could still see the doubt in her eyes. I looked in the mirror and couldn’t stop from smiling wide.
“Why don’t you walk around in it?” suggested my SweetPotatoFriend.
So I walked off the platform, train behind me, then whirled about. I put my hands in front of me, holding my pretend-bouquet, and took careful steps down the concrete convention center aisle. One of my friends began to cry, always a good sign.
And then. And THEN. My mom began to cry as well. Yes!
She gave me a hug and proclaimed that she loved it, it was absolutely “me”, she just didn’t want me to rush into a decision, etc. etc. Hurrah! I was thrilled. I stood in the dress for as long as possible, not wanting to take it off. And my small group began to clap and cheer: I had found my dress. Throughout the massive room I heard the strains and echoes of other brides and their friends also join in on our clapping. A group nearby gave a loud cheer in our honor, while I blushed and smiled.

Oh, and the dress? Here she is, the elegantly named Watters style 7013b.

Pardon the sports bra and the ill-fitting top. I’m going to swap the green sash for an ivory one, and get some major alterations!
We concluded the day’s adventure with noodles, happily. Although I’d planned on showing the dress to Mr. Potato Head, MommaChip convinced me to let her store it in her house for the time being. So maybe I will keep it a secret. The part that I won’t keep secret? The price! $250! With that sweet free T-shirt too! Thank you Filenes!
So the sentimental Priscilla of Boston trip never came to fruition, although we Potato Chip Women may go there to browse for a dress for SistahChips. I never never never thought I’d emerge from the dreaded RoTB with my dress.
Did your dress shopping turn out to be unlike anything you’d expected?
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