Wedding Blog

I was on the phone with SistahChips and she spoke carefully: “Mom told me that she really loves your dress—really does—but mentioned how she always pictured taking you to a bridal salon like Priscilla of Boston.” And then the bomb. “She was sad.”

Me: Sigh.

This is Portuguese guilt. It is entwined very strongly with Portuguese Love (also see: Portuguese Food). I didn’t quite understand it until…

At this point, it was feeling more like the quest for my wedding dress was equivalent to searching for the Holy Grail, but I knew that I had to find something that I loved. One day on a whim, I went to the classifieds section of Weddingbee and did a search for a bridal gown in my size. I had tried enough sample size dresses to know what size I fit in “wedding dress world”, which is essentially 2 sizes bigger than in the real world (um, what happened to vanity sizing?).

I scrolled through page upon page of gowns, when all of a sudden, I found one that might be plausible.

Mr. French Fries… this is your exit. Do not scroll down, do not pass “Go”, do not collect $200. Vamoose!

When we last left our saga, I was in meltdown mode about my dress. I was on the phone with Momma French Fries, and I was desperately trying to figure out what was wrong with the dress in hopes that we could make it right.

For starters, I didn’t like the bodice of the gown. It was covered in embroidery and crystals, and the proportions looked…

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…

Brides are often told that when they find the dress—the one that will become their wedding dress, the one that they will walk down the aisle in and dance with their husband at their reception in—that it will hit them like a ton of bricks covered in sugary fondant and glittery tulle. Starry-eyed, they will make their way to the cash register where they will gush,…

As you may know by now, our wedding is an ode to the Southern way of life. I started to think about Southern Belles and realized that for some of our wedding pictures, I really want to look the part. Not quite as done up as this...

So. The Running of the Brides.

First of all, I don’t know what would possess ANYONE to go at 7 in the morning with the crazies. There was minimal to no running involved for us, only some light scrambling to find parking and quarters for the meter. Other than that: no running. Sauntering, maybe, a wee bit. And the occasional grumbling.

Accompanying me on my quest was…

When my grandmother (my Vavó) and mother came to this country from the Açores, Portugal, my grandmother didn’t speak any English (and never really learned any, come to think of it). Nevertheless, Vavó got a job in the Priscilla of Boston factory (in Boston), sewing the pearls and beads on wedding dresses. My mom’s wedding dress was even a sample from the store window! For…

Even as my dress resolve remained with my heritage dresses, Ewe Mother and I visited salons in order to find the fit, style, and inspiration for my designed gown. We first visited P. Lawrence Bridal in my hometown. Our bridal consultant, Angela, was amazing! She let us go through the racks, I tried on as many gowns as I wanted during our hour appointment, we…

This is a picture of my roommate’s cat, Sylvester.

He’s a booger and a half, and I love that little rascal. Right after he knocked over the plant my company gave me to commemorate my grandfather, he curled up by my feet and purred. I’m a sucker when he starts the purring. As naughty as he’s ever been, I’ve always forgiven him.

This is a picture of…

From my first post about wanting to design my wedding gown using my grandmothers’ and mother’s gowns, you know that foreboding music was playing. If you know me and my I Love Lucy tendencies for getting involved in humdingers, you’ll know that nothing ever goes without a hitch in my planning processes.

The first hitch was that my paternal grandmewether couldn’t find her dress. After her wedding…

Before I was engaged, I had the idea to use both of my grandmothers’ dresses and my mother’s dress and make them all into one dress. I had this vision of cutting up the fabric and bringing them all back together in a sentimental couture wedding dress that would be sure to make everyone cry. (Happy tears, people!)

Within weeks of getting engaged, my maternal grandmewether sent me her satin dress.

I read Jane Eyre for the first time on the subway, during a two-week temp job at a law office. The work was tedious; as a recent college graduate my expectations were optimistic, but the job market was not. So for two weeks I commuted into the city and photocopied my days away. I picked up Jane Eyre because it was a classic I hadn’t read.…

Today could not have gone better. In Denver, pre-wedding, I made it to Saks Fifth Avenue with all of my bridesmaids in tow to pick up my gown. Yeah, three days out. I was nervous for all sorts of reasons---it had been four months since I’d tried the dress on, I hadn’t seen it with its final alterations, and there was a lot of pressure with my girls there to make sure it looked perfect!

Here are the results:

(MR. CB, THAT’S YOUR CUE!)

Remember when I showed you all my inspiration dresses for the one I’m making? Well, at that time, I was so focused on finding something I liked that I didn’t pay attention to one little detail—our wedding will be in winter!  Just like I mentioned before in my shoe post, I suffer from a really low tolerance to cold weather. So, I realized that I…