Goin’ To The Chapel: Dresses and the Dark Side

PW associate editor Anastasia Kotsosavas is getting married (to a guy with an equally long, equally Greek last name). In eight months, she’s going to walk down the aisle come hell or high water (or even worse: rain). She’ll be chronicling all her crazy planning experiences here—including the quest for the perfect dress. Donations can be sent to the PW offices.

I bought my dress!

Although I should feel relieved to be over that hurdle I feel more stressed out now than ever. On Wednesday, I went to Sabrina Ann’s and found that they had a great selection of never worn samples that had been bought from bridal salons in the area. The dresses were gorgeous and the prices were amazing; more than half off the designer price tag. The problem was I was limited in the dresses I could try on. Since there is no ordering involved, you can only try on dresses in your size or larger. I tried on a few in my size but was disappointed with the small selection. The good news is if you do size in the smaller digits (which I don’t) the whole store is at your disposal. You can always take a dress in but usually can’t let a dress out. I found a dress I thought I could see myself in and put it on hold.

Yesterday, I went to the Bridal Garden in New Jersey to look at big-girl dresses with big-girl price tags. The first 15 dresses my “bridal consultant” brought me were frilly, flowery numbers with ’80s sequins and lacy butt bows. I started to think I had made the right decision putting my little half-price number on hold at Sabrina’s. I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to get “the feeling.” You know “the feeling.” The immediate physical reaction you’re supposed to get when you put on Your Wedding Dress.

The next dress had clean white lines with minimal beading. I looked hard into the mirror and surveyed my emotions. Did I feel any different in this dress? I shut my eyes tight to see if I could squeeze out a few tears. Was that a flutter in my stomach or was I just hungry since I skipped lunch to go to this appointment? Nope. Nothing. Nada.

I turned to my cousin and told her I just didn’t think this was gonna work. But then something weird happened. The bridal consultant dragged in this huge plastic bag filled with this luminous fabric. It was all squished up in the garment bag, but the fabric was so silky and smooth it stood out among the other dresses on the rack. She told me it wasn’t what I had asked for (dropped waist with some beading on top) but that she thought I would like it. As soon as she pulled it out of the bag I knew I was going to love it.

I looked over at my cousin before I saw my reflection in the mirror and I knew. She had the look I had been waiting for. I stood up on the pedestal and took it all in. Yep, definitely The One. It was perfect. I even got a little misty-eyed when I said “I’ll take it.” (This could also be attributed to the fact that I handed over the entire contents of my checking account.)

Now the bad news. I’ve taken a turn to the dark side. I’ve tasted the good stuff and I want more. I got home and all I could think about were diamond necklaces, Spanish-style lace veils and the $400 satin slingbacks I had seen at Neiman Marcus a few weeks ago. What happened to me? Does this mean I’m one of Them—the binder carrying, magazine collecting, self-obsessed chicks that only talk about wedding details? Did I have a dormant case of bridezilla that has now been unleashed?

This weekend I have two appointments with photographers. Both were referred to me by my M.O.H.—who is also engaged and getting married in 138 days or so she tells me. Since she’s about five months ahead of me in planning and since we have similar tastes I have the luck of being able to peek into her 300-page wedding planner and going with the best she’s found. It’s gonna save me a lot of time and energy. I’ll let you know how it goes.

*Written by Anastasia Kotsosavas