Goin’ to the Chapel: Anastasia’s Getting Married
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’m getting married. I know I’m supposed to be obsessing about shades of pink and duchess satin, but I’m just not that into it. I’m not sure how this happened. Before I got engaged I would fantasize about the perfect proposal and the song I would dance to with my father. As I waited in line at the grocery store, my eyes would wander over to that picture-perfect woman in the beautiful white gown staring up at me from the magazines. She seemed so happy, so beautiful. I wanted to be her.
Now my time has come. I got the perfect ring—my wonderful fiancé was gracious enough to let me in on the selection process—and the date is set. We’re getting married on September 6.
The only problem is, that’s as far as I’ve gotten
No dress. No photographer. No flowers. Just the date. People keep on asking me how the wedding’s coming along and I just nod and smile.
My two closest friends, who by some crazy coincidence also got engaged last year, are knee-deep in magazines and flower arrangements. They carry around binders with all their appointment dates and magazine clippings. I know they look at me like a sad little puppy they need to help. I made the mistake of telling my friend Saya that I was thinking about the color purple (something I had heard was totally in this season) and have since received non-stop emails of bouquets, bridesmaid dresses, tablecloths, invitations, place cards and lighting fixtures all in varying shades of the hue. What am I supposed to do with that? Is there a store that sells these beautiful tables? If there is, I’m there. I’ll take 30, and be done with it.
Today I’m off to try on dresses. I heard Sabrina Anne’s Bridal, a store on Lancaster Avenue that sells never-worn designer dresses for half price. I’m going to check it out and see if it’s worth the trip to the Main Line. Who knows, maybe after that beautiful fabric touches my skin I will be miraculously changed into a gushing bride. Maybe I will have an epiphany. I’ll learn the difference between organza and taffeta. Maybe I’ll buy a binder. I sincerely doubt it, but fingers crossed.