The White Wedding Dress

My mother, MOH, and I went out today and tried on traditional wedding dresses.

As you may know by now, my plan for many years has been to wear a green dress. And nothing flouncy. And nothing with translucent ghosty, giant clouds of fabric. Nothing that makes me look like a rosette of whipped cream. Nothing satin, nothing with boning, nothing with a train, and nothing shiny.

But I have let myself look at some white dresses recently, because I saw one (a bridesmaid's dress actually, but in white) where the opaque layer underneath the lace sheath could be any colour I want--including green. Well, this made me think: maybe I could do something that would give a nod to the traditional, but would still be the green I've so desired. So then suddenly, many of the existing wedding dresses are potential dresses for me, because I can cut, dye, hem, and modify the things until they're a truer reflection of me. So today, we went to try some on and see what I look like in giant white meringue-like dresses.

No one--NO ONE--is more surprised than I am at how much I enjoyed the dresses today.

I tried on so many different styles. And unbelievably, there was only a very small handful of them for which I said a quick and definitive 'no'. You know what's great about the flouncy layers of toile? They make your dress all flowy and stick out in all the right spots. And little crystals embroidered onto a dress means that every time you turn, you sparkle like snow in the moonlight. Satin, done properly, all rooshed (rushed? Rouged? It's pronounced 'roosh-d') around the middle means I look like I've got a Wonder Woman waist. And white isn't nearly as...fattening...on me as I thought. In fact, quite the opposite seems to be true.

I can't tell you too much about the dresses I loved today, because they're all still on the table as ones I may try to find or recreate through donations, trades, etc. and we can't have Brian learning prematurely what I might wear. But suffice it to say, by the twentieth dress or so, we started to really get creative with ideas about replacing all the toile with green toile, putting green satin buttons down the back, and even creating removeable tiers so I can walk and dance like a 'normal' person after the ceremony itself.

By the end of the day, I put on a dress that made Heather (MOH) cry. I will admit, I was a little choked up, myself. I found myself delaying having to take it off. I haven't stopped thinking about it all night. And it's fantastically mod-friendly, so I can add a ton of green to it. Yes, a white dress...but done to be very very green.

And yet, I cannot deny: it is still a white dress.

So that leads me to ask myself, why am I opposed to the white dress? Originally I think it was because I pictured this overworked bodice with a giant ballgown skirt, and having tried one of those on before, and having kept a snapshot of the incident to tape on my fridge as a diet incentive, I know I never want to wear something like that. But now that I see that I look plenty thin in white (waif-like, even), and that I can apparently pull off the whipped-cream-rosette look really well, I don't know. I know that I hate to fit in, do things conventional, expected, or average. I always swore that I thought every wedding dress looked exactly the same as the last one, but today I saw how wrong I was. I also thought that brides who would obsessively correct you if you called their dress 'white' when they insisted it was 'ivory' had clearly lost their minds. Yet today I saw, with my own disbelieving eyes, that white and ivory are too entirely different things. Yes, my initial reaction upon walking into the shop was a choking feeling as I surveyed the countless yards of white (or ivory, natural, oyster, cream...) dresses; but after stepping into them, some like giant NASA spacesuits because of all the infrastructure and crinolines, I have seen that not all wedding dresses are created equal.

I ended the day pretty much in love with this one dress...Brian will read this but let me just say: A line, semi-matte satin, tiered, with some extra surprises we can alter in. For a wedding dress, it was reasonably priced. I felt the foreign urge to buy, on credit, a giant white dress that embodied everything I'd said I didn't want. I reminded myself of P:P and made myself take a step back. Perhaps, if this is the dress I'm meant to have, it will come to me through the project. SIGH. And perhaps I'll crack and find a way to buy it now.

As I drove home tonight, I think I figured out why I was enjoying the dresses--especially the last few, so mod-friendly--even though they were white. I've never been one to throw tradition right out the window; for instance, I would not wear pants for my wedding because I respect the iconography of the bride in a dress. But I do like to thumb my nose at tradition. By adding the riding boots I hope to wear, plus yards of green toile, and a few other quirks (you'll see!), I get to say, 'I appreciate tradition; I just like to f--- it up." And that is really, really fun. In fact, I think it's my new mantra for this whole wedding.


I find myself wondering if my reluctance to consider a white dress is partly due to some sort of rebellion that I should have outgrown around...oh, age 20, probably. Standing there today, staring at myself in a sparkling white dress looking like a moviestar, I really had to ask myself, when had I decided I hated these dresses? And I really don't know.

I think the only solution is for me to try on a bunch more. Lots and lots and lots more.

PS. To better understand the late-life rebellion concept, watch this youtube video. The original monologue is from the Gilmore Girls, as Lorelai philosophizes over her love of poptarts...this girl's audition tape had the whole script, so I'm sharing this version. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5fqRwNOIy1s