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I’ve diagnosed myself with dress doubt disorder. I can do that…I’m a licensed clinical social worker, so I am fully qualified. Plus, I made the disorder up, and the person who makes up the disorder can diagnose anyone they want. I just made that rule up, too.
Anyway, I’ve got the DDD. My behaviors include lusting after classic all-lace dresses and wondering if I should have gone that route. An all-lace dress was my second choice gown, after all. Until I decided they were “trite.” What was I thinking???

Dress by Priscilla of Boston / Vineyard Collection Nora
Oh Vineyard Nora, how I could have maybe loved you…
Or looking at all the new lines coming out, and sighing, and wondering if I should have waited. I also obsessively replay all the positive and negative comments (and facial expressions) that people have made regarding my dress, and I weigh them against one another. The positive comments weigh as much as feather pillows while the negative ones tend to resemble bricks. That’s part of the disorder, too.
I think about just walking upstairs to try on my dress that is just hanging up there [side note: I read somewhere that you aren’t supposed to hang your dress for a long time, and instead should wrap it in a sheet and stick it under the bed. That sounds like a really, really bad idea since I have a peeing princess, AKA my cat Isabella, in the house and she likes to pee on things. Thoughts?] and reassure myself that my dress is The One…but then I decide that 1.) I don’t trust my own opinion, obviously, and 2.) Maybe the problem is that I look in the mirror and think the dress looks nice, but really the problem is that it does not look good in photos. All the photos of me in the sample dress are not good. So even if I did try my dress on and was happy with how it looked in the mirror, it doesn’t matter because the pics don’t lie.
Then I think, “But my friends love it, and they aren’t fashion disasters. Quite the opposite!” These are the same friends who once plotted and executed a (semi) successful intervention to extricate me from the throes of too many 3/4-length-sleeved rugby shirts. Clearly, they must have some fashion knowledge!

Image via New Look
OK, maybe I wore these types of shirts like they were my uniform in college.
But then, on the other hand, I worry that maybe my friends just saw how much I loved (thought I loved???) the dress and just agreed with me that it was a beautiful dress, and now they are stuck because I went and bought the damn thing, and they never DREAMED I would make such a disastrous mistake!!! Well, I showed them, didn’t I???
In the end, no matter the reassurances my friends give me, it doesn’t help at all because my disordered brain has decided that they are all lying to protect my feelings. Really the dress is hideous but they all know it’s bought and paid off and I can’t afford another one, so they will just tell me it’s gorgeous and maybe I can delude myself into thinking it is on the day of until I see the photos from our wedding and realize I looked completely ridiculous and sooooooooo 2011.
Catastrophizing much? I think so. I clearly have a problem.
Should I try the dress on, or wrap it up in a sheet and put it under the bed for Isabella to pee on?
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