Hunt for the perfect wedding dress – and bridal shop!

Bride Blogger Part 6

Well, I have started trying dresses on for the big day! It is now less than a year away until I become a Mrs, so figured I should get trying on some dresses. I’ve seen it on TV where future brides try on lovely, intricate dresses surrounded by a teary, enthusiastic audience – all helped along by the most helpful, friendly member of staff, oh and the glass of champagne! Now, I live in Swad, I wasn’t expecting the champagne, but I did envisage a wonderful human-being who just wants to find a bride her perfect dress. A woman whose career was a calling not just a way to pay the bills. My standard was high.

My first shopping trip was Monday with my Maid of Honour/sister and bridesmaid/best friend. My hope for the perfect dress soon began to plummet, as the first two bridal shops we went to were closed! It seems Mondays are a popular day for Bridal shops to be closed – they have a busy Saturday and take Sunday and Monday as their weekend. Doh. But, after lunch, there was a little ray of hope. A shop that was actually in our little town called Alison Evans Bridalwear. We made an appointment over the phone and spent about an hour there. Thank you to all of you who recommended that we try there. It was brilliant and the perfect first shop to try. There were racks of gorgeous dresses to choose from and some excellent advice to accessorise the experience. I was advised to try about six dresses on to get an idea of style without overwhelming myself – and my poor bridesmaids! We were allowed to take some photographs too and I did fall in love with one dress (yet wasn’t sure about the back – so it was not the ONE!) Other little highlights of this great shop – were mirrors facing to get an all round look of the gowns, weddings shoes to be borrowed and worn and absolutely no pressure to buy. In fact, she gave me the details of the designer and model number of the dress and suggested I tried other shops to see what I thought. When you want something, set it free. And this is good business I think – because after visiting a few more places this week, I really want to return to this great shop and give them my business. So I’ll be back with the Mums in tow next time!

On the Wednesday, I went to Lincoln with my Mum. I didn’t particularly want to buy a dress from somewhere that far away, but I thought trying a few on couldn’t do any harm. And, besides, I now had lots of bridal optimism and thought I may see the ONE and just have to get it! The experience in the shop couldn’t have been more different! I was ushered into the changing room straight away. I began to wander out again whilst chatting to the woman – assuming that I was to come and look at the dresses and select a few – but NO! I was told I needed to be in the changing room and to take my clothes off. It turns out, I wasn’t to choose which dresses to try on, Miss Control-Freak was going to do that! 4 dresses got pushed onto me quickly within a twenty minute period. My mum was not allowed to take photos. I was told that if I wanted straps that would cut my choice down by 80% and as for not wanting a V neck with lace, I might as well give up now! She was very bossy about the fact that I needed to decide which style I wanted. How dare I like straight down lace ones as well as full skirted satin ones?! I quickly found out that her so called statistics and opinions were down to the fact that she didn’t really have what I wanted. She also said the word ‘appreciate’ about a million times – about the same as her dress costs – ‘You’ll appreciate that it is a busy time.’  ‘You’ll appreciate that we only stock certain sizes.’ What I do appreciate is not being treated like a moron. So, off I went to find my lacy dress with straps elsewhere!

On Friday – really getting the Craig David 7 Days song vibe now? ‘I found a dream bridal shop on Monday, took a break on Tuesday, got bossed around on Wednesday, another break on Thursday……….Well on Friday, I was insulted in another shop!

I took the Mums this time to another local bridal shop. I won’t name and shame, but if anyone does want to know more details then message me for warnings! We went in and the woman asked me what size dresses I had been trying on. I said a mixture really- some had been too big and held against me and some only partly fastened because they were too small, as I was only looking at style at the moment. I also said that I was a size 14 in normal clothing though. Now, if she was experienced at her job, she should have suggested that I try a size above or a mixture of sizes as they all vary. But, no, we picked out about 8 size 14 dresses and then she began to struggle to get the first one on me. She said, ‘Are you sure you’ve been trying on 14s?’ Well, I did say, no but that was my usual size! The next gem that followed and stood out as much as the ones on the dresses was,

‘Is losing a few pounds on the cards?’

 

Now, luckily I am not sensitive about these things. I’m happy with my weight – but she doesn’t know that. For all she knew, I could have spent the first 6 months of my engagement losing a few stone. I may lose a little before the wedding, but that is none of her business. I said through gritted teeth, ‘It may be.’ I think she then knew that she had pissed me off, as she back- tracked and said ‘Well I only said that because of this dress. If you were to lose a few pounds, this would fit perfectly.’ Well, I’m not buying a dress to then worry that I have to shrink to fit into it. I tried on other 14s and some fit, some didn’t. Some 16s – some fit and some didn’t. I tried on a 18 and it was too small. Wedding dress sizes are crazy – you think she would have known that in her line of work? She was just generally unhappy and unfriendly and I don’t get it. These people are around pretty dresses and happy people all day – if you don’t like making wedding dreams come true, then don’t do it! On the plus side (excuse the pun!), my mother-in-law to be got her outfit! She said she almost didn’t want to give her business, but I said she had found the right outfit and would be spiting herself if she didn’t get it.

So the hunt for the ideal dress is still on – but I’ve found the shop that I want to return to. (And 2 I will never set foot in again!)

Keep Calm and Carry on all you brides out there!

XSXS

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A Fine Life

I have just read an article in Psychologies magazine that has inspired me to write this. I love it when that happens – when I read something and feel I have something to add. The article was about being ‘fine’. They always say that if a woman ever says she is ‘fine’ then the husband or partner is in trouble – as ‘fine’ can be a mask to hide true, inner feelings.

The article suggested that it is better to be honest when people ask if you are okay  – tell them you are feeling rubbish/down/depressed etc. I guess it depends on the person that has asked you and the situation. I studied spoken communication at university for my dissertation – and it does seem that certain phrases are asked out of politeness or to invite a deeper, more meaningful conversation. Women are always said to be a more ‘polite’ conversationalist and I found that from my research. That is politeness translates as being cooperative, formal and inviting. Women like to include others into conversations and a simple,

‘How are you?’

‘I’m fine thanks, how are you?’

can do this. It did always amuse when I studied gender differences because a male conversation of:

‘Pint?’

‘Sure!’

can so exactly the same thing! So if this ‘politeness’ is more about being honest and straight to the point, then males may have it down to a tea (or a beer!) But let’s stick with this idea of being ‘fine’ – and within both genders. The article suggested ‘fine’ to be an acronym, which I thought was quite clever. Because even if we say are fine, we are really feeling a mash-up of feelings – and you could argue that we all are, all the time.

 

F *cked up

Insecure

Neurotic

Emotional

 

Is it better to be honest and say ‘Actually, I’m feeling kind of emotional’? Like I said above, it does depend on who it is and where you are. I would want a friend or family member to tell me what they were really feeling – even if it wasn’t a convenient time or location in fact. Sometimes, though, you just want small-talk though and keeps people at that ‘acquaintance’ level – and we all need those.

Lately, I’ve had a couple of neighbours confide truths to me. I didn’t ask for it or particularly invite it  – well I didn’t think I did anyway! One neighbour on Monday, confided that she had cancer and her latest check-up was yesterday. I only went outside to get my sunglasses from my car so that I could read in the sun. Irony alert – that by the time we had finished talking, the sun had gone in! I liked the fact that she spoke to me about it though, really. I feel I know her better. If she had said she was ‘fine’ and then I heard her health news from someone else, I would have felt that I wasn’t a person she could tell. The downside is, it has now gone a few notches up from general neighbour chat and I must remember to ask her how her check-up went. The pressure is on to not feel like a bad neighbour.

Another neighbour, a few weeks previous, confided in me about his wife leaving him for another man. Again, I was just  getting out of my car  – I think I had just come from work. We had the small talk about ‘glad the day was over and I could relax now’ etc. It somehow got onto the fact that he now lived alone and his wife had left him. This may have been a time when I wished he had just said he was ‘fine’ – as I didn’t really  know what to say! I mean what do you say? ‘There are plenty more fish in the sea!’  or ‘Maybe she will come back’? Awkward. But, maybe it made him feel better to tell someone and he was sick of saying that he was just ‘fine’.

It’s okay to not be fine. I always say that talking about things is human nature and we need to do it. We are social creatures and sometimes a chat – whether it be to a close friend or stranger – is all we need.

XSXS

 

A Short Life Short Story

Hi guys – no wedding stuff to talk about lately, so I will share with you a short story I have just started working on. See what you think:

Narrow streets, lined with grey and brown cobbles, swept around the white, smart-looking wooden buildings. Flashes of colour blurred past as people tended to their business. Purples going into the grocers. Orange going towards the lake. Greens walking hand in hand talking. Blue walking into the local news agents. That’s all they were to her. A blurry, rainbow getting in the way of her view. The dull cobbles and the greying sky were a much better view. Still. Honest. Constant. The cobbles never moved, abandoned you or let you down. The sky was always there no matter what had happened. The flashes of colour were fickle. Just as your eyes began to feast on them, they were gone. Just like her self-respect.

Yes, living in a grey world matched her mood. She had become a spectator of life lately. Watching it happen through her window. They say eyes are windows to the soul, yet hers were firmly shut. Her soul was a prisoner of her body; her body a hostage of her mind. Trapped wasn’t the word. She had everything at her exposure: money in the bank; physical beauty (whatever that was worth); freedom to do what she wanted; a sociable personality – so she was told, when she actually went out into the colourful world. But it was all tainted like a summer’s day with a looming, dark storm cloud over it.

She used to be happy. At times, optimistic and jubilant too.  But that was all before. Because one thing she didn’t have: her health. Well, she had a limited amount of poor health left. It reminded her of when you play a computer game and your life bar is slowly, slowly going down. She needed some sort of ‘life’ or bonus points to help it go back up again. But this was the real world – and hers was drained of colour and hope.

                                                    *****

When people realise they have a limited amount of time left on earth, they do one of two things: give up or live life to the fullest that it can be. I chose a magical, third option. Knowing I only have 12 months to live has given me a purpose. It has given me a voice. It has given me reason to do things I should have done a long time ago. No, not go to friggin Disneyland or to finally try sky-diving. Or to visit all those beautiful, exotic, faraway pieces of heaven. No. I was even willing to give up my place in the actual heaven, if it so exists. I was going to use my time left on this planet to make things right. I was going to make a list of everyone who had wronged me and make things even. We all like a balanced world, don’t we?

It is only a first-draft of the first part, but I’m enjoying toying with this idea of revenge and a limited time left. And also writing as a villain is interesting and a little different for me! Any comments are welcome. Thanks.

xsxs