Weddingbee Blog

Here’s how the hunt for my first dress went: Saw it. Liked it. Tried it on. Wrote the check.

Here’s how the hunt for my second dress went: Remembered it. Liked it. Unpacked it.

Let me explain. I didn’t mean to become a two-dress bride—it just kinda happened. Many many months before I was engaged, one of my mom’s friends got married. She just so happened to get married at Grandview, which my mom knew I had taken a liking to. So my mom sent me the link to her friend’s pictures. Like I mentioned in my previous post, Grandview didn’t make me swoon, but something in the pictures did.

Photo borrowed from my mom

No, it wasn’t her new hubby. It was that dress! Before I was engaged (yup, I’ll admit it!), I looked at a couple dresses and always steered toward the all-lace numbers. I was sure that when it came down to it, though, I’d get something with sleeves. But then it did come down to it. I got the ring on my finger, and the thought of shopping gave me the heeby jeebies. I’m not kidding, y’all. I HATE shopping. I can barely stand going grocery shopping, and it takes me getting to the point of subsisting on sweets for a week (’cause I somehow always have enough cocoa, sugar, and butter to make brownies…) before I cave and buy produce. So with the ring on my finger and that picture in the back of my head, I called up my mom and asked if she could find out if her friend wanted to sell her dress.

About a week later, my mom showed up to my house, dress in hand. I tried it on. It was a perfect fit. I wasn’t a huge fan of the fact that it was strapless, but to not have to go into a bridal store, I was sold. We wrote the check and, for less than a Benjamin, I had my wedding dress.

A couple weeks went by, and while I had no doubt in my mind that I wanted to wear that dress for the ceremony, the thought of tugging on a strapless number all night—and trust me, my little tatas weren’t going to keep that baby up easily—didn’t sound like much fun. I felt terrible asking my parents for a second dress, though, so I kept mum for a while until I casually asked my mom if I could try on her dress. We pulled it out of an old metal trash can (yes, my mom “preserved” her dress by cramming it into a tiny metal trash can), and I tried it on. For the most part it fit perfectly. I asked if I could wear it to the reception and, of course, she said yes. So with a few alterations (I’m having it shortened to the knee, the crinoline taken out, and the sleeves taken from full length to three-quarter length), I’ll have a funky ’70s-style reception dress that I feel totally comfortable shakin’ my tail in. I don’t have pictures of it, but I promise to post them when I get alterations!