The Legend of the Rehearsal Dinner Dress
I knew I was going to marry Justin after our first official date. We started talking about the future almost immediately. But anyone who knows Justin knows he is a perfectionist with executive dysfunction. That is quite the one-two punch. So even though he'd been asking me about what kind of rings I like less than a year after we started dating, it took him an additional 15 months to actually propose. I didn't know at the time that it was because he was designing the ring himself and trying to find a jeweler who would actually make exactly what he wanted. He was also planning a very detailed proposal. But that's a story for another day.
The point is, this girl was getting stir crazy. I was already in my early 30s and ready to push the accelerator. After a few months I even told him I didn't need an engagement ring — I'd wear a band. But he wasn't trying to hear that.
All my friends loved Justin and were elated for me. After watching me go through so many hard things, they understood why I was anxious to marry him. They're also a little crazy. So one afternoon after a few glasses of wine, they declared we were going to plan a girls' trip to Houston to buy my wedding dress. I countered that it was weird to do that without being engaged, but they ignored me and booked a hotel and a dress appointment on their phones right there in the wine bar.
Sure enough, there we were — six weeks later — rolling into Houston blasting Fat Pat on the speakers on our way to check in to the Westin Galleria. When we arrived at our appointment at BHLDN the next morning, they scattered in six directions picking dresses for me to try on. I’d already had my eye on a dress that I'd been admiring for months; I just knew it was the one. I decided to try that one on first.
The ladies all sat around the giant dressing room holding flutes of prosecco, waiting for me to step out in that gown. When I did, they all gasped — even the stylist who was helping us. When she placed the veil on my head, my best friend Thais walked over to me with tears in her eyes and hugged me. We all agreed; this was the one.
"Ok, but we're having too much fun. So you still have to try on all these other dresses." Whitney said. Over the laughter, I agreed. After a parade of taffeta and charmeuse, they suggested I try on rehearsal dinner dresses.
There was one that Thais had picked that I would've certainly overlooked. It didn't look like much on the rack. And it had a big bow in the back which is typically not my aesthetic. But when I slipped it on, it was sheer mid-century perfection. I felt like Betty Draper. Stepping out onto that pedestal in front of my friends, they echoed their enthusiastic approval. I told them I loved it too, but since I was purchasing a wedding gown today, I'd probably need to wait on buying this one. At least until I was ACTUALLY engaged. I walked back into the dressing room to change into my street clothes.
When I emerged, they all had a knowing smirk on their faces. Julie spoke up, "We've decided we're going to buy you that rehearsal dinner dress." I was overwhelmed. The stylist was in tears. There were group hugs and clinking glasses. We celebrated with overpriced Tex Mex. It was glorious.
Needless to say, this dress is very special to me. So special that I was sad to only wear it for one evening. That’s why I decided to start a tradition with my husband. Every year on our anniversary, I wear that dress and he wears his wedding suit. It's a reminder of the love and support I felt that day and that we both felt on our wedding day. I hope I can still fit into it when I'm 90.