We picked up a wedding dress this weekend at a very unlikely location: the doors outside of the Bay on the second level of the Bayshore shopping centre. Shannon S, the woman who offered her 12 years-old, 50's-style gown to me, met us with her husband and kids, and handed me the precious item. This is the first wedding dress offer I have accepted, partially because I was quite certain I liked it, and partially because Shannon gave me permission to pass the dress along to a dress charity if it didn't work out--so, either way, this dress was going to get a second life. I thanked her, utterly thrilled to have a dress--any dress, really, but this one is lovely--to try on at home, away from the uncomfortable ornate femininity of the wedding boutiques.
We talked with Shannon for a few minutes, Brian and I, while I held the garment bag containing the dress and felt relief at the lightness of it. (For those familiar with wedding gowns, you know that all that tulle and satin gets heavy, and the pouf-ier the dress is, the heavier it is. The majority of the dresses I've liked on me were ones that were light to carry. This was a good sign.) Shannon shared a few words of wisdom in regards to marriage; this is not unusual these days, and in fact most offers we've been getting have been accompanied by a few wise words from married people. I've actually really enjoyed hearing it as, for the most part, the advice has been quite simple--which leads me to believe, perhaps one runs into relationship problems when one is taking things too seriously or tries to make things too complex. I am happy to follow advice that suggests I cease my overanalyzing; I do enough of that. Much of the advice, however, has ended with some sort of vague statement about it all working out...perhaps because, for those sharing advice, that's the simple truth. Unfortunately, this type of advice has left me feeling like someone has given me the entire plot rundown of a movie, yet keeps leaving off the ending, just saying, 'And by loving each other, it all just worked out.' Really, I'd rather hear the spoiler, you know? Anyway, all this to say, Shannon's advice was the most practical, down-to-earth, realistic wisdom that anyone has yet shared with us. In a nutshell and doing her no justice, it summed up as, seize the day, and if it all goes belly-up, at least you went for it, and life will go on. As I become mired a little more each day in the fairytale dogma of weddings, marriage, and the 'happily ever after' of the bridal industry, it can be really...grounding...to hear such simple, calm advice. At a time when any tiny nagging argument between Bri and I (over dishes, driving, dog walking, etc) feels like we're somehow unworthy of the bridal bliss promised in the magazines (this is my own anxiety speaking, I know that), to have Shannon's relaxed wisdom was wonderful. Thank you, Shannon.
Anyway, I'm on a tangent. So it turns out, we also owe Shannon another huge thank you: turns out, Shannon saw our article in the Ottawa Citizen and had passed it along to Stanley's (our venue), and encouraged them to contact us. Which they did, and now we have a venue and date and we are overjoyed with both. Naturally, between the dress and the venue tip, I found myself giving this (very patient) stranger a big hug. Shannon, we said thank you in person, I know, but not nearly enough! When we got into the car, we were still talking about the serendipity that continues to fuel this wedding project, and the series of coincidences that brought Shannon to read the article, have a great dress, and know of a fabulous venue. I remarked (and have continuously remarked over the few days) that Shannon is our wedding fairy godmother. Thank you, Shannon; we are so happy you found us.
So...curious about the dress? Well, we went to my parents shortly thereafter, and my mom helped me into it. Awesome point #1: I didn't really need help getting into it--a good sign it's not a meringue. Point #2: it's adorable. Point #3, it's so ivory, I would call it cream or mushroom or something, which is wonderful. It's a couple sizes too big, but in my limited knowledge of gowns, I think it'll be easy enough to take in. It has the most adorable neckline I have yet seen. It is pristine. And thanks to Shannon's blessing to modify-at-will, I can see tons of wonderful ways to alter it. Without giving too much away to nosy Brian, who will read this, plans for alteration include: shorter, tighter, sleeves taken up, green, green, sparkles, tulle, and green.
Now, I cannot say for sure that we have THEE dress; Mo has been sick as a dog for days, so I haven't gotten to show it to her yet, and her opinion matters soooo much to me; she will also know if the dress can be taken in enough. As a previous princess-gown bride herself, she knows a lot about alterations and whatnot. We also need to find someone (skilled and experienced, please--I can't let anything bad happen to such a sentimental gown) who can alter it in the various ways I want, plus who will hopefully do it free-of-charge, for trade, or what have you. But I can truly say, this is the first dress I put on where I felt elegant, fun, and yet also, like my normal self. Who is, I always hope, ele-fun, too. I have such a hard time telling if things are going to look good when they're not the right size yet, so I am desperate for Mo to come over and tug it tight in all the right spots. But I have a really good feeling about this dress. I'll keep you all posted.
Moving on...Brian and I went and made a wedding gift registry this week. The barcode scanner is Brian's new favourite toy. We were going into Michael's craft store for some Christmas gift supplies, and had ducked into a home-type store to check for something. In the lobby was a big ad for the registry program. Well, we had an extra hour to kill before going to see my parents, so why not? We found a staff, sat at the registry desk, filled out the registry stuff, and then grabbed a gun. I whispered to Brian, this is just to practice. We haven't even researched what stores we'd register at yet! And we really don't need house stuff! My comments were met with 'uh-huh' as he practically ran through the store scanning stuff. Brandy snifters, wine glasses, butcher blocks, chef knives...everything went into the scanner. And it was tricky, because as Bri laser-gunned each item, I would think things like, 'But we have knives! Well, yes, those are a lot nicer and would probably cut a tomato instead of mashing it...' Because the reality is, no matter how long you've been living on your own, or as a couple, there are things you have that you'd like to upgrade. I mean, our third-hand toaster still works most of the time, but that sexy Bodum green one is pretty damn awesome...
Brian was smart, and pulled me into the fervor quickly by taking me to the linens; we have several fitted sheets, but none of them have deep pockets to stay on the bed. And they're mismatched because I only buy on sale. And they're not 100% cotton. And they drive me crazy. Like, I hate them and every night before I get into my PJ's, I cast a glare at the bed. Well, guess what, J? Here's an entire wall of colour-coordinated, 400+ thread count, cotton sheets. I had a chuckle when Bri pointed and said, "We need one of those." 'Those' was said with the same tone I use when something on the car needs replacing: I really have no idea what I'm pointing at, but I know it needs fixing. I followed Brian to where he was pointing. "You mean a duvet, darling?" I said, stifling a giggle. "Duvet," he said, memorizing the word. And yet, he was right; we have a summer-weight Ikea duvet which is doing absolutely nothing for us in this freezing temperature. Fine. I showed him around the duvets, explained materials and styles, and we scanned one. By the end of the visit, I was just enjoying scanning things that I would a) never buy the 'brand name' version of, yet would like to get; or b) never buy because it seems frivolous, extravagant, or otherwise irresponsible. My favourite scans by the end: a 2.5-foot tall glass vase that looks like something out of Dr Seuss or Tim Burton's imagination, a set of avocado-green ceramic kitchen items, and a tiny white salt pig. A salt pig was a new term for me, yet my strange Brian knew what it was right away. For $3.95, I may just go buy it myself. I have no intention of leaving all $4600.00 of stuff on that registry, nor do I rule out the possibility that I'll actually do some research before sending friends and family to a particular store(s)...but it was really fun, kind of like circling all the toys you want in the Sears Wishbook catalogue when I was a kid.
These past few weeks have seen me with far less time for wedding planning. It's been a little frustrating, because on top of the usual wedding planning business, we also have our crazy (and awesome) Project: Priceless tasks to attend to. So we're feeling really grateful to have the efforts of Veronica--our wedding planner, another donation to the project! V, as I've been referring to her, is so enthusiastic. It's great, because she's not previously connected to us personally, so all her excitement is unbiased. She knows lots of useful stuff (like, what an escort card is), and she's starting to guide us towards timelines, deadlines, and decisions. I think jumping in when Mo and I are together must be pretty hard, but she's doing well. For our second meeting, I wanted her to get a feel for my side of the family, so I had her meet with us at my parents' house. I explained it: this would be a typical night at the family house, and the extended family is just like my immediate family; so, if she could picture the experience on a scale amplified 25 times over, that's what (my side) of the wedding would be like. I was teasing...a little. But it was a perfect K-family evening: the TV was playing a space movie, the four greyhounds were barking and playing, the exchange students were in and out, my dad decided to try cooking beef Wellington for the first time (which meant that Brian became sous-chef and we didn't see him for the rest of the meeting). It was a cacophonous, chaotic swirl of an evening. And V handled it swimmingly. Apparently she's used to gregarious family gatherings. Perfect!
We haven't had much time, as I said, to connect with V over the last two weeks, which has been weird for me, as I feel like there must be things we are falling behind on or need to connect about. But I have faith that V has her finger on the pulse of this planning process, and will nag at me if I'm neglecting something. I also recognize that the three weeks leading up to Christmas are a hard time to plan anything not related to the holidays.
Tonight I may buy myself a new magazine and put myself into another panicky spin about floral ideas, decor on the cheap, and dress details. My sweet derby-mate Sandi has enlisted her family to help bring the olive green wedding dress up from It's Your Day in Windsor, and they'll even bring it back if I try it on and find it doesn't work on me. I hope V and Mo understand that they're on call over Christmas, and may have to speed over to my house to critique the two dresses, over and over again.
Note: see December 30, 2010 entry for update on wedding planner status. http://projectpriceless.blogspot.com/2010/12/offer-and-request.html
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