Just call me one happy bride. No, I didn’t win an all-expenses-paid honeymoon vacay to a sunny, faraway island. I didn’t get a call from David Tutera saying he would love nothing more than to feature my wedding as his first in North Carolina on his uber-fabulous television show My Fair Wedding. I didn’t wake up with luxurious locks of long hair cascading down my shoulders that would make planning a wedding ‘do a dream. No, ladies and gentlemen, I’m filled with bridal bliss because my bridesmaids will now be clothed for my big day. Not only will they be clothed (Shocker for those of you who thought my friends and I were nudists, I know.), but they’ll be looking pretty spiffy, if I do say so myself.
As with virtually all the decisions involving this grand affair, I have flip-flopped on bridesmaid dresses more than a seal on hot pavement. Or John Kerry on all those important political issues (Har, har, har. Man, those John Kerry jokes used to kill. Circa 2005. Sorry, I’ll try to update my frames of reference.) Each day, I wanted something different for my lovely ladies’ attire. One day I would want all the girls to wear the exact same dress. Ok, most days I wanted all the girls to wear the exact same dress. Because I’m me, and I’m all into matchiness and symmetry and all that jazz. But then some days I would subscribe to the more modern theory of each bridesmaid wearing a different dress per her preferences and body type in the same color. Because hey, everybody’s doing it these days. And then I’d go back to not caring that everybody’s doing it and not caring about dresses that suit each girl’s taste (Just kidding, ladies!) and I’d remember once again just how much I love matchiness. I really love matchiness.
And then there was the issue of where to get the dress. One of those tried-and-true, this-is-a-bridesmaid-dress-and-you-will-never-ever-wear-it-again websites? Or someplace more hip and cool, not altogether unlike myself (Bahah), like JCrew or Ann Taylor. Throw into the mix the fact that almost every clothing store under the sun that sells threads for the ladies has something to offer: Macy’s, Kohl’s, JCPenney. The list goes on and on. I began sending e-mails so long I’m sure no one was actually read them to all the girls, with links to this really pretty dress and that fun little number. “What do you think of this neckline? How do you feel about tea length versus cocktail length?” I even considered pants for a time. We are getting married in December; I thought it would be a nice gesture if I let my girls have warm legs.
Well, I’m here to say those legs will be cold and covered in goosebumps. After swallowing a few just-make-a-decision pills, I opted for dresses over pants. This wedding is going to be nontraditional in some ways, but not quite that nontraditional. I could see 87-year-old me looking back one day and saying, “Really, Mary? Pants? What were you thinking?” And, let’s be honest, I want to make 87-year-old me happy while I can because I’m probably going to be one crabby old lady. So, dresses it is. But then comes the agonizing decision of long dress versus short dresses. (And if you’ve stopped reading by this point, I completely understand.) I get that longer dresses are the style for fall and winter, but I hate long dresses. Like, a lot. Nobody ever re-wears a long dress. And, in general, they’re less flattering. I want my girls to show their healthy gams! Yep, I just pulled that word out of the 1950s and threw it down. Bam!
Ok, ok, so enough back story. The girls are wearing dresses. The same dress. So that there’s matchiness in the world. And it’s going to be short. And they’re all going to look super cute. And since you were patient enough to make it this far, I unveil to you:
(Picture it in purple. It’s awesome. For real.)