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I kind of decided to get an early start on shopping for wedding dresses on my own, because quite frankly I do not sit kindly to the opinions of others. I am just NOT that girl who wants to take eight girlfriends with me to an overpriced shop to try on dresses while I am being judged. That just did not appear to be any type of fun to me… all. But what was interesting was, everybody from my little sister to my line sisters wanted in on that action. Some just wanted to go along to sip on some free champagne, while others are just fashion Svengalis who shop for a living, so this was right up their alley.

One day during my daily jog to the grocery store in the “new” city, I stopped at a wedding boutique that shall not be named. I had no idea what I was doing, but I figured I should get started soon with looking and I preferred to do it alone. So I walked in all funky from running in the heat and the receptionist asks if she could help me. “Hell yea, you can help me. I have no idea what I am doing!”

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I informed her that I was getting married in 10 months and that I wanted to start looking at dresses but did not understand the process. She informed me, in a snarky kind of way but I totally understood because I was so funky, that I needed to make an appointment. So I did. She then asked me close to 21 questions to the point I was waiting on Curtis Jackson to appear. I had zero answers for her. “What style do you like? How do you feel about fit and flare? What size do you wear in regular fit? What size are you in wedding sizes? How much weight do you plan on losing? What color would you prefer? Do you want alterations included?”

Listen lady….. I have no idea.

So, I made the appointment and came back two days later, optimistic and less funky.

She started up with the questions again and I could not be bothered so I told her: “Listen, how about I just peruse your selections, pick a few out, you put them in the dressing rooms, I try them on, then I start answering your questions. Mmmmmmkay??” She looked at me like I was crazy and acquiesced….rightfully so.

So I am walking around, not really knowing what I am looking at. I head straight to the discount rack hoping to score a deal. I am the type of chick who likens myself to Erykah Badu’s song quote “my dress may cost $7 but I made it fly, and I’ll tell you why….cause I am cleva!” I could care less about this dress. All I cared about were my wedding shoes and having a top shelf open bar. This wedding dress shopping should be easy.

I am pulling all sorts of dresses off the racks. $200….BET, $500…Let’s do this!, $399….come on girl, let’s rock! I didn’t pay attention to the cut, style, size….nothing. I’m just pulling stuff as I had seen David Tutera do on those horrid wedding shows.

Man listen.

The lady escorts me into the dressing room and comes in with me. I’m looking at her. She is looking at me. I’m like “may I help you?” and she advises me that she wanted to assist me with putting the gowns on. “Lady, I got this. If I need you I will call for you.” So she leaves, but not without giving me a snarky look…AGAIN!

These dresses weighed a metric ton. I was drowning in tulle, lace and beading. I was way in over my head, but too ashamed to ask this lady for help. That was until I almost stopped breathing.

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So she comes in and helps me fasten up this dress and it was the most GAWD awful piece of Southern Gone With The Honey Boo Boo Child Kenya Moore inspired mess that I had ever laid eyes on. And might I mention again, it weighed a metric ton. I quickly requested that she get that contraption off of me, quick, fast and in a hurry. I haven’t run out of an establishment like that so fast since we skipped out on a bill at Applebee’s in high school.

I immediately sent a message to a few of my girlfriends, explaining this horrid ordeal to them and one of them said “Why did you think you could do this on your own?”

So, waving the white flag, I admitted that I had to call in reinforcement. “Wedding dresses and the women who fawn over them are obnoxious and I NEVER want to do that again.” The troops rallied, made appointments for me in New York and brought along personables of brown liquor to soothe my wounded soul.

Much better.

About the Author: She holds multiple degrees, is a natural born socialite, a business owner, an extreme exerciser of faith and a realist. After 3 years of dating and a year of being engaged, she is ready to tell the truth about what to expect when you are transitioning from being a single woman with no worries to a future wife. For the sake of these articles, let’s just call her Nina. After all, that was here “Club Name” for over 15 years….so yeah, introducing Nina.


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