Dear Dearest Darling Anthro,
I am finally putting words to my emotions and am writing this letter to tell you my true feelings. At first I read your name on the internet, and found a cute clothes store that I didn’t think too much about after closing that browser window. Then we bumped in to each other again late one night in Portland Oregon, after I stumbled out the wrong exit of Powell’s Books (reeling from the delicious book fumes). I bought one of my favourite dresses ever that day, and I still treasure it.
When my fiance and I went to San Francisco, not even the excitement of getting engaged could keep me from visiting you, and spending more than I should have. Once I got home and started browsing for bridesmaids’ dresses, I found this:
It looks like another bride has a similar relationship to you and I! I dreamed about being able to buy bridesmaid dresses (and me dresses!) from you.
Every weekend that summer I debated jumping in the car and going to visit you in Edmonton. I almost managed to convince myself that 3 hours of driving in each direction would be worth it for another sight of you, but I never did get in the car. I kept a close eye on your lovely website though, and that is where I heard it, those sweet sweet words: Anthropologie. Opening in Calgary. Winter, 2010. Instantly I started counting down, trying to divine exactly which day of winter 2010 you would open your doors here in my city.
But while I waited, all the countdowns and checklists that brides are assaulted with kept urging me to make a bridesmaid dress decision. I even did the research and found a dress I liked made by someone else. I’m sorry I didn’t trust in you, but at least that dalliance was with an Etsy seller, right?
I was there, the day you opened your doors on December 17th, and every dress I saw was sized up as an option. I’m sorry to say that none of them were right for the wedding. You were too full of corduroy and wool and long sleeves. While I like those things, they do not work for summer bridesmaid dresses. I tried to make it up to you by buying some long-sleeved corduroy dresses for me.
The New Year has been rung in, and now that I can say, “I’m getting married this year,” I started worrying about not having dresses for my ladies. I spent time fondling the swatch of fabric the Etsy seller sent me, looking it at how perfectly it matched the shirt we bought Cinnamon Buns for the big day. I started to think that I wouldn’t get to be an Anthropologie bride. I’m so sorry I doubted you! You made me wait, you tested me, you teased me, and now you send me the perfect wedding (or is it engagement?) present:
A light, floaty dress, with bra-covering straps, a pattern, and in my wedding colours? My patience is rewarded!
Of course dear Anthro, the proof will be in the pudding, as they say. This dress isn’t available online until January 18th, and I don’t know if that means stores don’t get it until then. You can be sure I will check in with you every time I am in the vicinity, and as soon as I see that dress, THAT DRESS in the store I will know if your teal is teal enough, your apple tart enough, the dress cute enough for my ladies. I’m hoping it will be.
Please, don’t let me wait too long, my gorgeous one?
Miss Cinnamon Bun