
I don't. Seriously. At first I started to think there was something wrong with me. Like I didn't really wan to get married. Now I realize it is simply a genetic "distinction." (Defect is such an ugly word, don't you think?) I am just not built that way.
I first realized it when I started to look at dresses. I knew right away that I wanted something simple. No beads, no lace, absolutely NO sequins (for some reason I have always had an aversion to them). Possibly a second color involved in the form of a ribbon around my waist, but that is as dressy as I was wiling to get.
Then began the search. It was horrible. No matter how many dresses I looked at none appealed to me. Not a one. And I literally looked at HUNDREDS of dresses (thank god for the Internet!). Friends, in an effort to be helpful, emailed me dresses. (I had to assume some of them were jokes in light of the fact I had stressed I wanted a "simple" dress.) Still nothing. So I started looking at bridesmaid dresses. No luck. Then onto prom dresses. Nope. Special Occasion dresses. Zip. Nada. Zero. This was looking like it was going to be an impossible task. I started to think that maybe I would just have to get married in a nice pair of shorts and some flip flops. It would be summer after all. Would that be such a bad thing? (Very much so, according to my mother).
As a last resort I even looked on Craigslist to see what they had. Most of the dresses were way too big. Apparently skinnier brides either keep their dresses or are not getting married at the same rate as their more voluptuous counterparts. If you don't believe me go to Craigslist under Fore Sale and type in "wedding dress." 1 out of 10 is under size 14.
These posts were painful at times. Some were simply that the bride had chosen another dress after she purchased the first. Some told the tale of divorce. Others explained their wedding had been canceled. It got worse. Several ladies had been left at the alter after being bamboozled by some Internet Don Juan. And in one case the bride gave the maid of honor the money to pick up the dress and she was never seen again! Some of these stories were so pathetic I began to wonder if these were sales ploys to get you to feel sorry for these women who really just wanted to make some extra money selling their dress. Regardless, they were all ugly. And besides, did I really want to buy a dress that belonged to someone who had been scammed?
Then I decided to actually go to a few stores. I figured that if I tried on some dresses I might find one I liked. Alas, it was more of the same, and unfortunately worse. First off, white is definitely not my color. Not only do I look ridiculous (because let's face it, at 39 I am no virgin bride), but I know me. I am not the most graceful creature in the world (ravishing though I may be). I would spill something on that within the first 30 minutes. I am nothing if not practical. Second, all the dresses went to the floor or just above my feet. I was planning on getting married in a campground for God's sake! Did I really want to be spending the day in a dress, much less one with a train, that became more disgusting as my special day went on? I think not. Finally, I hope to dance at my wedding. And when I dance, I MOVE! All these formal gowns restricted movement in such a way (including breathing) it was apparent I would have difficulty letting it all hang out on the dance floor (or even sitting down for that matter). As I drove away I began to suspect there was something seriously defective in my make-up.
What was wrong with me? Why didn't I want a floor length satin or silk type dress with beautiful beading/rhinestones/and/or lace? Why did I want to simultaneously run the other way and throw up when I saw myself in the same dresses that made other girls squeal with delight? Why could I not find a dress that suited me DAMMIT! Was it because my mother had thrown her wedding dress out rather than save it up in the attic to be lovingly taken down and unwrapped for my sisters and I on special occasions? Was it because I was a tomboy when I was younger and preferred jeans and sneakers to the pretty outfits that my younger sister so enjoyed? Could it be because of the pot I smoked in high school? (I hear if guys smoke enough of it they will get breasts. Maybe it makes girls more masculine?)
And then, as I lolled around lazily on my parents' couch watching the umpteenth episode of Bridezilla and Platinum Wedding, I began to realize what it was. Every single girl on these shows (and there are a LOT of shows about people's weddings) said the same thing when they put on their dress. "Oh, it's just like I envisioned. It makes me look and feel like a princess!"
A princess? A princess? Who the hell wants to be the freaking princess!? I don't want to look like some helpless waif that needs some prince charming to come and rescue me from the perils of everyday life (which mainly consists of having to go to bars in the hopes of meeting someone to settle down with so you never have to go back another such bar). I am not a frail delicate piece of flesh to be treated with kid gloves and protected from the harsh realities of life. I do not sit quietly behind the throne while others make the decisions.
Princess my ass! On my wedding day I want to look like the damn QUEEN! The queen rocks! Everyone knows that the King doesn't have any power. It's the Queen that runs the show. She may have to jump on a horse and ride bareback through the kingdom at a moments notice so she can do battle with whatever threatens her kingdom. She rules with wisdom and grace, but is tough as nails when necessary. She commands attention, and more importantly, she has PRESENCE. That's the type of bride I want to be on my wedding day. Not some pansy princess!
Luckily, I finally found something that appealed to me and met with the approval of two of my closest friend. There is nary a bead on it. It is completely devoid of ornamentation. But I have to admit I look totally awesome! Because on my wedding day when I finally walk down that aisle I want the only thing that dress to show off is me, and I am no little girl going to the prom. I am woman, HEAR ME ROAR!




