After trying it on twice I loved it, really loved it - the perfect mix of sexy bride and elegant bride, rolled in to one very slinky, but still very bridal number.
The only thing niggling me is that The One is completely different to how I envisioned it. Given that we are having our nuptials in an English country garden, I envisaged myself swishing about in layers of lacy tulle, looking all English-rosy, not wedding vixen. But when it came to the crunch lace and tulle just didn't look right on me - I didn't feel sexy - and I didn't realise how important feeling sexy as well as pretty was to me, until I found The One.
Don't get me wrong, I've not gone for a split-to-the-thigh number or decided to channel Modern Family's Sofia Vergara (if only!), my dress is still very bridal, but it has just the right amount of va-va-vroom. Or so I thought, until, once my Mum had very kindly bought it for me, I cheated on it. Not just the one time - THREE times. The guilt is over-whelming, so I'm fessing up here.
I think the cheating started because I was almost determined to prove to myself that I couldn't find a dress I liked more anywhere. Then I'd know for sure that I'd found The One.
At first, I almost convinced myself I wasn't cheating. I booked an appointment at a very swanky Sydney department store under the proviso that I would be looking at accessories, shoes and veils only. Until I arrived - and once again, I was confronted by row upon row of dreamy gowns - and before I knew it I'd selected six and was in the fitting rooms, having myself an orgy of lace and tulle (why oh why can't I just let that one go!!?)
To my relief, I didn't find anything I liked more than my dress. I left feeling guilty but smug.
The second time I cheated happened during my lunch break - I found myself walking past a bridal shop and spotted a very princessy Rosa Clara number in the window - I just popped in and before I knew it, the zipper was closing and I was wearing it. Thank god the dress looked hideous on me - I actually resembled one of those toilet roll cover dolls that everyone's Nana has in their downstairs loo.
The third time, I have to confess, was pre-meditated. I saw a stunning gown - fishtail, edgy, gorgeous on a real bride in a bridal magazine so I hunted down the only store in Sydney that sells it and made an appointment. When I tried it on I loved it. Really loved it - it was gorgeous, it suited my shape and my five-foot nothing height. But the fabric wasn't quite as sumptuous as my dress. The corsetry wasn't quite as spectacular. It didn't cinch me in quite as much. I loved it, but I knew it wasn't really The One, or any nicer than The One I already had, at any rate.
I think deep-down I'm a little sad that now I've found The One, the quest is over, I won't be able to go dress shopping anymore. I'm also a little scared - what if, in three months time when I finally get my dress, I don't love it as much as I think I do. That's been a reality for a very close friend of mine - who went to collect her dress six months after ordering it then, upon trying it on, had a meltdown in the fitting room screaming 'Get me out of it, I hate this dress!'.
I'm scared of that being me. I guess it's a risk every bride takes. How can you ever really be sure you've made the right decision.
So I've stopped cheating and realised that there could always be another perfectly lovely dress that catches my eye, new dresses are coming out all the time - but I won't seek them out.
I've not told anyone about my cheating - I'm too embarrassed - but I wanted to share it with other brides to find out whether they've done the same - and I'm not quite as unhinged as I think I am.
Has anyone else out there cheated like me? I'd love to hear about it!
Yours truly, madly, deeply,
The Reality Bride xx
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