Monday, February 23, 2009

My Quest For "The" Dress

Before I walked into a local bridal boutique I had to take one of my peppermint pills to calm my nerves. There was excitement, butterflies, and fear all at the same time. I've heard so many stories about girls finding The One the first time they slip a dress on. Man, talk about pressure.

After the little bell chimed above the door a nice girl came and told me to browse their book and paper clip dresses I like. That was easy enough, and I soon had several gowns "picked out." I stepped into the dressing room and fear started to creep up. You see, for those of you who don't know me, I'm not usually the smallest girl in the room. I was worried about how all the size 4 dresses were going to fit over my not-so-very-sized-four hips.

I slipped the dress over my head and the sales lady came back to lace the corset back. And a few clips and pins later, she made the dress fit me like a glove. Actually, better than a glove - it was like the dress was made for me. But it wasn't The One. In fact, none of the dresses I tried on were The One. A few came close, and I'll definitely try them again, but the overall experience was so much more pleasant and exciting than I ever could've imagined. I felt like a princess and didn't want to take the dresses off.


.......... and then I went to Alfred Angelo tonight.

I'm usually not one to bad-mouth businesses, because I'll usually give them a second try to redeem themselves, but this place got under my skin and I won't be returning. To try on dresses I needed an appointment, so I had one set for today at 5:30. Finally around 6 pm they were able to see me. I couldn't try on dresses right away, though. First the lady wanted to know my bra size, shoe size (what?!), clothing size, etc.

I was already getting an uncomfortable feeling about the place - just one of those vibes, ya know? - but I wanted to check out the dresses. After the woman gave me one of her bras, even though I insisted I would be wearing the one I brought with me, I started looking through their dresses. Well, wouldn't you know it - the dresses I wanted to try on were sizes 8 and smaller. After trying a size 12 the woman told me I needed a bigger one. We got a bigger one (in a style I didn't like to begin with) and I tried it on. I felt gross in it. The saleslady insisted it looked good (umm...no). I took it off and tried on the next one. The material made my skin red and the dress didn't flatter a single part of me.

Long story short, I tried on a few more dresses and decided I had had enough. I left the store feeling defeated, fat, and frustrated. I cried in the parking lot and I'm thankful that I had good, quality service before stepping foot in Alfred Angelo.

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