Diary of a Pickle Eater.

Yup, that’s me in a wedding dress.

In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not really your typical bride. I have no idea why not. I was the kind of kid who ran around in pink and tulle, who owned multiple “princess dresses”, who made her brother and cousin play “wedding” every summer in our Nana’s garden. I still wear more skirts and dresses than I do pants, and I’m usually pretty dressed up. In spite of this, I tend to think most wedding dresses are silly and much too formal. **shrug** Your guess is as good as mine, folks.

Anywho, my mom finally got back to me with the pictures she took at Priscilla. Most of them were very washed out because she had forgotten to check the settings on her camera (she doesn’t really know how to use that dslr) so I did my best to clean them up with PS.

Upper left: This was a chiffon trumpet dress with little petal things over my hips. I was unimpressed (and HATED the flowers at my waist).

Upper middle: You can’t really tell, but the bust had all of these little flowers on it. Pretty, but nothing amazing.

Upper right: The Melissa Sweet Dora. I had tried on this dress before and felt overwhelmed by it, but this time I put it on and loved it. It was definitely my favorite, though I still sort of felt uncomfortable in it, like I wouldn’t be able to walk or go much of anywhere in it.

Bottom left: A dress with english netting and embroidery. Of course you can’t see any of the detail in the picture, but it was really pretty! It didn’t feel like “me”, though I LOVED the loop on the train.

Bottom middle: A 1930s style satin dress. The front was nothing special but the ruffled back was amaaaazing! Again, though, way too much dress. Plus, there is no way I could stuff myself with tacos in a fitted satin dress.

Bottom right: I wasn’t super-crazy about this dress when I put it on, but when I look at the pictures it’s my favorite.

I tried the polka dot Dora one more time with a black sash and a veil.

Oh yes. That is NOT a happy face. I really hated that veil.

I look more serene in this picture but what I was really thinking was “I don’t know about this you guys…”

I really like the dress and I felt good in it, but there was just something about it that kept me from being very enthusiastic. I think I just felt like I wouldn’t be able to DO anything in that dress, like it would hold me back from dancing the night away and eating tons of tacos and doing tequila shots. As I said in my last post, it was just too much dress. Even if it were hemmed to fit my short ass I don’t think I’d be able to walk properly in it. So, bye bye Melissa Sweet Dora. It’s probably for the best. You do cost $4k and that is just craaaaazy.

I don’t really want to go to another bridal salon, thought I definitely want to go to more bridal faires (helloooo, free cake!). I think I am going to have my dress made by Etsy seller Ouma and it will look something like this:

I just wish I could try it on first.

Wedding dress shopping.

Yesterday my posse (Mom, 2 aunts, cousin, sister, Nana and friend) and I went to a bridal fair at the Ritz-Carlton in San Francisco and dress shopping at Priscilla of Boston.

I think I might have a screw loose somewhere. Let me explain.

The bridal fair was fun. For $10 (big thanks to Ms. Randi for the coupon code!) we gained entry into a gorgeous hotel where we imbibed free champagne, hor d’oeuvres and cake. Some personal favorites were the dim sum and the chocolate fountain. Also, the many different photo booths were fantastic. I was slightly annoyed that the champagne ran out by 2pm (seriously, Ritz Carlton? The show kept going until 4. Do better next time) but other than that it was a blast. Free stuff, woo!

Then we went to the bridal salon. What I had anticipated to be a fun time playing dress-up was instead an hour and a half of feeling really pressured to pick a dress RIGHT NOW. I tried on some amazing, gorgeous dresses (pics to come!) but I don’t know that I found THE dress. First off, my appointment at Priscilla was just meant to give me an idea of what kind of dress to look for and what I thought looked best on my body type. Second, all of these dresses there are WAY too expensive (something I anticipated, but again, I never planned to buy there. Sorry, Priscilla…). The one I liked the best is $3900. HAHA. Third, I couldn’t try on a SINGLE. DRESS. without the very sweet (and she was) bridal consultant asking questions like, “Do you think this is YOUR dress?” “How are you feeling about this?” “Do you want me to take your measurements now?” with compliments peppered throughout - “Oh, I don’t think your hips are too big! You’re very proportional” (thanks hon, I’m actually not self-conscious about my hips; I said that only so you didn’t try to put me in some horrible mermaid monstrosity).

So I’m in the dress everyone likes the most - the Melissa Sweet Dora style. It’s beautiful, sort of a fit and flare shape made with polka dot organza. I’m standing on the raised platform with a long black satin sash tied around my waist and even I have to admit that I look pretty freaking hot. The dress is just so much dress, though. I love it but it looks too bridal, it’s white and I don’t want to wear white, and it’s long long with a train. It’s beautiful but I’m just not sure it’s right to wear in real life. You know, outside. To walk around and eat tacos in.

So I’m there on the platform, and the bridal consultant puts a cathedral length veil in my hair and my sister hands me a bouquet. And for a moment I think, “hot damn I’m GORGEOUS!” But then I start to get really nervous and I realize that everyone is staring at me and I start to get this feeling like I either want to run away or I want everyone else to leave so I can process the figure in the mirror - this BRIDE - on my own. It was weird. And I don’t think I liked it. It looked like me but it wasn’t me. It was Steffany the uber bride and I don’t think I want to be Steffany the uber bride, I just want to be Steffany. With a pretty dress, of course.