By Angie Sarhan
I think for most girls, once you’re engaged the first thing you start thinking about is your wedding dress. Sure, there are about a few hundred other wedding related things on your mind (and it’s a given it will remain that way until after you marry) but picking out the perfect dress becomes a top priority.
Immediately I knew I wanted to go shopping for my dream dress in New York City. For starters, my sister-in-law and my six-year-old niece live there and could easily join us.
Secondly, we could go to Kleinfeld, the dress shop made famous by the TLC show, Say Yes to the Dress.
For those of you who haven’t seen the show, I suggest you immediately set your DVR or just check when it’s on next. Warning: the show is addictive. Something about the tulle, the tears and the trying on hypnotizes you even if you’re not engaged. You watch one bride and before you know it you’ve watched twelve. Luckily, TLC knows this and will often play three or four episodes in a row.
After consulting my ladies, I went online to book an appointment for us. It had only been a couple of weeks since David had proposed, but judging by the three months I would have to wait for an appointment, I was grateful I hadn’t procrastinated any longer. (Note: I wasn’t procrastinating, but every bride feels like she is doing so an average of 7.2 times a week. That’s not scientifically proven, but I just did some quick math.)
And so, on a chilly December morning, my best friend, mom and I hit the road to New York City. In my bag I carried a dozen or so pictures I printed of wedding dresses that Kleinfeld carries. Like I said, I’d seen the show. I know how Kleinfeld brides roll.
After meeting up for a light lunch, all of us headed to the bridal shop. From the moment you walk in, the place does feel majestic. There’s white everywhere. White front desk, white walls, white furniture and of course walls of white wedding dresses all on display daring you to just try and look away; you can’t. Fact: It’s physically impossible to be in a bridal store and not want to stare, to touch, to ooh and to aah over every dress you see—even the ones you didn’t think you’d ever like.
Oh, and there are a lot of women. Brides, mothers-of-the-brides, sisters of the brides, friends of the brides and friends of friends of the bride. Each bride was flanked by a small troop ready to offer opinions or shed tears at the drop of a bouquet.
Once we got called in by my bridal consultant, Robin, things moved fairly quickly. My troop was instructed to sit on a plush white sofa and wait for me. If we didn’t come out right away, Robin explained, it was because I didn’t like the dress and we were waiting to show them something I was wowed by.
That never happened.
Every dress I tried on was one I wanted to come out in. They were all beautiful. My troop oohed and aahed and I got nervous wondering why I wasn’t feeling more strongly about my choices. Wasn’t I supposed to have a bridal instinct and just know which ones weren’t for me and which one is?
Robin assured me it would become clear.
And then it happened. I tried on a dress, walked out and my troop had a much different reaction to this dress than all the others. They stood up, came over to me, and fussed. Eyes became teary. A bouquet bedazzled with pins was thrusted at me. A veil was procured and placed. And there I stood, looking like a bride. It was The Dress.
I tried on another just to be sure, but then put the other one back on. I had The Dress.
And when I stood in front of my troop, bouquet and veil back in place, Robin asked the famous question, “Angie, do you say yes to the dress?”
And I replied, “Yes… I think so.”
Luckily they weren’t filming me for the television show because if they were I’m sure we would have had to do a retake.
I don’t know why I said it. For the record, I was emotional and overwhelmed by the moment.
In a whirl, I was whisked back to the fitting room where Vera came and took my measurements. The dress would be ordered and Robin explained that it was good I had come when I did because it would take months to come in.
After we left, my niece asked if David could know what the dress looked like. I explained it had to be a surprise and gave her a response to share if anyone asked about my dress. She practiced her answer and laughed at our little secret.
Before we left New York we stopped at my family’s place. My brother came home from work and wanted to know how it went.
My niece quickly replied, “She said yes to the dress! And it’s hot pink and short!”
This time, she even kept a straight face.