One of the most anxiety inducing, fun, and important parts of wedding planning for a bride is selecting her dress and veil. It’s what truly transforms her from a normal, everyday woman into a princess, immediately skyrocketing her confidence and making her feel gorgeous. I probably tried on about 25-30 gowns between two different shops, but only one rendered my mom and me speechless, creating that moment every girl who dreams about her wedding day craves.

The first shopping excursion was intentionally excessively early to allow Garrett’s mom the opportunity to join in on the fun during her visit. She, my mom, my best friend/matron of honor, and I all loaded up into my car and headed off to the shop while my dad, brother, and Garrett stayed behind. Garrett was insistent on not knowing any details about the dress until the moment the doors opened and I walked down the aisle, a decision that gave me plenty of ammo to torment him with, making him regret it while still sticking to it. Fine by me! This trip was mostly just for fun and a way to include his mom in the planning process, so I handed the clips to each of the ladies and told them to pick out whatever dress they liked! I had no preferences at that moment, whatever was selected would be tried on and showcased. It was quite fun to see what everyone picked! While there were two dresses I liked a lot, the timing was too far in advance for me to make a final selection so we departed after receiving multiple texts from both Garrett and my dad asking how much longer we would be and “how long could it possibly take to try on dresses?” Cue eye roll.

When we arrived back at my house, my dad and Garrett asked how it went and I glared, telling Garrett that if he pesters me like that during the next dress shopping trip I would shake him. How am I supposed to enjoy it while my phone keeps going off? I then informed them that I found the perfect dress, Garrett within earshot. He quickly told me not to say anything, but I continued on. “It’s gorgeous, it’s so me! It’s a huge ball gown, the skirt is full of a mix of hot pink and leopard print ruffles. The bust is the same, but it’s blinged out with crystals. We’re going to be forced to social distance for our first dance because of how big this dress is!” Remember what I said about ammo for torment? Payback for texting me while shopping! I pulled up a picture on my phone of the dress, since my inspiration came from one of the dresses I had seen on My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding way back in the day. My mom calmly assured Garrett that she would have the getaway car ready for him!

Fast forward a few months and my mom and I paid a visit to a little chic boutique near her, A Formal Occasion. The owner of this establishment is an incredibly charming lady who makes it readily apparent that she is in this business to make sure that every bride walking through her door leaves feeling beautiful, supported, and joyful. The store itself is gorgeous, blinged out just enough to be stunning but not gaudy, lined with gowns in all styles and sizes. Welcoming us with a huge smile and an outstretched hand, she took my mom’s and my rings for a complimentary cleaning before guiding us to the sale section of the gowns. That’s right, to the sale section first, not the most expensive rack like most other places do!

The three of us set to pulling gowns that met my vision; sparkles, not form fitting, sleeveless or capped sleeves, and ivory. She questioned me regarding the avoidance of a form fitting gown and I explained that I did not believe it would look good on me, that I’d rather find an A-line or something slightly under a ballgown style. That’s when my hands passed over a gorgeous gown, filled with intricate beading, metallic thread, and a beautiful vine like design, a perfect match for the inspiration of the wedding decor. She cautioned me immediately, informing me that this was a fitted gown, but I opted to try it anyway. What’s the harm? Thank goodness I did! There were a few among the 10-15 gowns pulled that we really liked. Each time we’d say “I’m not sure we’ll be able to top this one, but let’s keep going and see!” That, in and of itself, should have been a sign that none of those dresses were, in fact, the one. I had three more dresses left, one being the form fitting, beaded dress. I slipped into it and walked out in front of the floor length mirrors to find myself feeling more beautiful than I had for as long as I can remember and my mom speechless. Moments passed where we just stared until the owner spoke up; “What do we think?” “I think it’s going to be hard to top this one.”

Truer words had not been spoken that day. I didn’t even want to try on the other dresses, but I did quickly, only to go right back to this dress, not wanting to take it off again. Not only was it stunning, it was also very discounted among the last chance dresses. This was the dress. I didn’t dare risk losing it, so we took pictures and paid quickly. The owner gifted me a beautiful rose and blue charm, had me sign the bridal wall, and congratulated me! Mom and I retrieved our rings and went on our merry way filled with excitement and emotions soaring high, not knowing the dread, frustrations, and many hours of work this decision would cost us (mostly my mom) in the future.

Several choices made during the planning process were those of immense sentimental value, particularly items I would be wearing. The veil was the same that donned Grammy’s (my mom’s mom) head during her wedding, and my mom’s head during hers. For the third generation, this veil would be worn down the aisle! My mom was tasked with removing the current stitching and beadwork from it, replacing it with a more appropriate design to match the dress. This proved a bit more difficult than anticipated as the netting was wider than the typical veil of today, making sewing on a machine impossible; this would have to be hand stitched. In addition, the fabric had taken on a yellowish tint, so any premade lace or beading wouldn’t match; it would also have to be hand beaded. On top of that, locating the right color thread was problematic as the dress contained a metallic thread somewhere between gold and silver, more like a champagne color. We finally devised a plan for the design and located an adequate thread. The remaining hurdle then became finding befitting beads, one that would cause a standstill for my mom until approximately two weeks before the big day.

Once we were approaching the two month mark, I reached out to a seamstress to book my first fitting. Typically a bride will come in for a first fitting six to eight weeks prior, a second fitting a month out, and a final fitting the week of. Apparently, this seamstress did things a bit differently! She informed me that she ensured a one week turnaround time (wow!) and advised that she does an initial fitting two to three weeks out with a final fitting after the alterations are complete. Cutting it that close to the wedding day made me anxious, so I booked my first appointment three weeks before, a decision that would prove invaluable. I informed her that I wanted the zipper replaced with a lace up back, capped sleeves added, and that it would need to be hemmed quite a bit (yay for being short!). She confirmed the appointment and the waiting game began.

The day approached and my mom joined me. She helped me slip into my dress and I stepped out of the dressing room to show the seamstress what she’d be working with. I went over the details that I had informed her about in the initial email and she informed me that I was required to provide the necessary fabric for the laces, privacy panel, and capped sleeves. A detail that would have been nice to know weeks ago when I initially informed her of the job! Now I was forced to reschedule for another day, which meant driving an hour over here and an hour back home on a work day for a 30 minute fitting with only 20 days left until the wedding. Not to mention we now had to hunt down fabric that matches the dress, when she’s the expert and knows better than us. Lovely.

Mom and I wandered hopelessly around Joann Fabrics for what felt like hours with my wedding dress. In an anxiety and anger induced state, we attempted to locate the perfect shade of satin fabric to make the laces and panel from and mesh for the capped sleeves. This task proved arduous as none of them matched quite right and we were both incredibly overwhelmed. We’d been reduced to delirium, pulling out crazy fabrics full of sequins or glitter and saying “let’s just settle for this!” Finally, we located adequate fabric and whisked them off to the cutting station. Under normal circumstances, I would not be concerned with the speed in which an employee cuts my fabric. Normally, I can manage to muster up patience easily. This, however, was far from a normal situation. My mom and I both held our breath as the lady began to slowly un wrap the satin, which did not look like it contained the full three yards we required. After a few excruciating moments, we breathed a sigh of relief and had just over three yards of the satin and plenty of the mesh. Once we got back to the car I glanced at the clock and noted it was almost noon, so I gave the seamstress a call and asked if it was at all possible for me to come back at any point that day so I wouldn’t have to drive all the way back out here on a weekday. She agreed and we were off to her place again!

We got there just as she was wrapping up an appointment with another bride. I slid into my dress again, gave her the fabrics, and she began taking measurements with both my heels and flats on. My mom even came up with the brilliant idea to request the leftover beaded fabric that would be removed from the dress during the replacement of the zipper so she would have the right beads for the veil! We were back on track. Or so I thought. After removing the dress and hanging it back up, we went to the register and she tallied up the total for all of the alterations. Nine hundred dollars. The alterations were going to cost more than the dress itself! My stomach sank as the amount now being shown to me was well above the allotted budget. My mom, however, was there to save the day, yet again. We discussed the options available and determined what was necessary to have done, and what could be “left out,” and by left out, I mean done by her. Gotta admire that “I can do that” spirit! We came to the conclusion that the hemming, bustle, and laces would need to be done by the seamstress, and my mom would add the capped sleeves herself. I retrieved the mesh fabric and we headed back to her home.

Fast forward a week and I was back at the seamstress’ to pick up my dress. It fit like a glove but was still rather long with the way it bustled so I was a bit concerned about it getting stepped on walking around the venue, not to mention during our choreographed dance! I figured we could alter some of the moves a bit and everything would be okay, so I paid for her services and we headed back to the house. I put the dress back on there so my mom could figure out the sleeves and absolutely lost it. I no longer felt pretty, all I could see was where the dress was pushing me out of it! My mom raised her hands and said “Don’t worry! We’ll fix this! We’ll make it right!” After I had calmed down and wiped all the tears from my eyes, we located the extra support that the seamstress had added inside the dress (which I had agreed to at the time, my bad) and noticed it was very simple to remove. The removal of that one thing was like magic! I instantly felt so much more comfortable in the dress and smiled again, breathing a sigh of relief. I expressed my concerns about the bustle to my mom and she said she would look into it and I assured her I would also consult our dance instructor on how to adjust the dance as well.

It turned out that all the seamstress did was sew on three little loops to various parts of the bottom of the train and one button right under the laces, which caused the loops to fall off easily. Not to mention, the bustle hid all of the gorgeous beaded detail down the back of the dress. This just would not do, so my mom set to work. I thought I’d owe her therapy after the invitations debacle, but nothing compares to what I owe her after the anguish she went through trying to fix that bustle for me! After reviewing several YouTube videos, trying many options, shedding numerous tears, countless phone and video calls, multiple visits and dress try-ons, and days of frustration wrestling with layers of slick fabric, my mom finally came across a solution; turn the American bustle into a French one. This would require ribbon to be sewn onto the hems underneath the train (so that the stitch would not be seen through the train) and hoops inside the skirt through which the ribbons would be tied, bustling the train up in a beautiful waterfall-esque style.

The best part? It showcased the previously concealed beadwork! Off to Michaels! We located and purchased a pretty ribbon with “Forever & Always” in silver metallic lettering before heading back to the house. I don’t know how my mom didn’t just throw her hands up at any of the numerous roadblocks she encountered, but I could not be more thankful for her patience and persistence! Both the dress and the veil were finished in the nick of time, two days before the wedding day.