I fell in love. With the veil.

One week ago today, I made my first trek to the place that has all the wedding dresses.
It was not a planned outing...I was having brunch with my Godmother, Mary Jo, and I mentioned that it was the last weekend of the $99 sale at David's Bridal. She said she would go look with me, and eventually we found ourselves surrounded by women, manikins, poofey gowns and some annoying teenagers shopping for prom.
I (ahem...I should say WE, as in both Pete and I - yes I have the one fiance in the world who looks at dresses for me and even makes phone calls to random shops in California to ask about a certain style...but that's another story) have been looking at dresses online for a few months now. I had a general idea of what I was looking for: a pick-up or draped skirt, a trumpet cut, a black sash. But apparently, it's almost impossible for all three of these things to exist in one gown. So we started with two out of three (I won't say which, because I know Pete will be reading this). To put it plainly, I loved it. Took-a-picture-and-sent-it-to my-best-friend-loved-it. Mary Jo even loved it, even though she didn't think she would at all. It was almost perfect...but it was only the first one I had tried on, so it couldn't possibly be THE dress, right?
So I moved on to the next dress. Too traditional (or, as I named it, the "Catholic church dress"). The next one was what I liked to call "cupcakey", meaning it was a bit too poofey and princess-y...but it was kind of artsy, and I just so happened to love it too. The next one was "too boring" at first...but after a few pick-up pins from the seamstress, I was yet again loving it. Anyone noticing a pattern here? Yeah I pretty much liked every dress, but there seemed to be something I didn't like about ALL of them too...except the first one. So I put the first dress on again. Then they added a necklace. Then they added a broach. Then...they added a veil.
Ah, the cathedral length veil. I. was. in. love. Cathedral length veils are pretty much the most dramatic statement a girl can make on her wedding day, and let's face it, I'm a drama queen.
So I'm standing there, in love with the veil, while Mary Jo is discussing the price tag of the dress and two different saleswomen were fussing over various sash and ribbon options, when a certain song starts playing on the radio.
(For those unfamiliar, listen here. Please excuse the cheesy early 90's video - it's the lyrics that should be payed attention to.)

garth brooks-its your song
- Watch more Music Videos at Vodpod.

Your Song. By Garth Brooks. It's a song that, I swear, was written for my mother, as I'm sure my brothers would agree. I never hear this song without thinking of my mom, who has been missing from my life for the past nine years. And apparently, when this song comes on the radio while I'm staring in the mirror at a girl in a wedding dress and cathedral length veil...things get a bit emotional. A girl always dreams of shopping for wedding dresses with her mom...and although I'm pretty sure dress shopping with my mom would actually result in quite a bit of fighting and arguing (we had many battles over our "style" differences), I still wished so much that she were there. There were quite a few tears, and a moment where I was convinced that apparently, this had to be THE dress.
But I couldn't commit.
The tears started blurring together with exclamations of "but I wasn't supposed to actually find a dress today! It's way too early! I've only been engaged for 11 days! I'm supposed to have a whole girly day of shopping with my bridesmaids and sisters-in-law before I find the dress!"
The emotional moment passed and I moved on to another dress. And another one. Then back to a few of the first ones again. At this point, I was exhausted. The more dresses I put on, the more it seemed like none of them were what I was looking for...not even the first one. My mind was fried, and I was dizzy from beading. It was time to go home.
In a couple months I plan on going back and trying the first dress again. And in the meantime I must soothe myself over the fact that I found the most perfect dress in the world at a shop in California for a price I could never justify spending, even if I could afford it, which of course, I cannot, and dream of my fabulous cathedral length veil.
All I can say now is, Girls (meaning Brittany, Mandi, Mariah, Angela, Mary Jo, and whoever else tags along in the future), brace yourselves. This is going to be a very bumpy search. Bring kleenex. And please, don't kill the overly-picky bride.