I mentioned earlier in the week that I had drugged myself on the way to shop for wedding dresses.
I made a quick stop over at my Mother-in-law’s (to be) to pick her up and to pass out.
And while I
drooled all over the bedspread slept, my mother and mother-in-law gabbed about me… and getting my rest.
Those toads would’ve let me sleep!
That’s what mother’s do.. they think about your health instead of the important things.
Like SHOPPING FOR A WEDDING DRESS.
Good thing my body knows value I put on shopping and woke me up.
My appointment was with The Brides Project. A volunteer run boutique where the dresses are donated from stores all over Canada and from Brides who have worn their dresses, enjoyed them, and sent them for another Bride to love.
Money from the sales goes to The Canadian Cancer Society.
We were greeted by “D,” a quirky, warm, hilarious volunteer who gave us a quick run down of the rules, took our coats, and made us feel welcome right away.
We followed her up the stairs of the old house and into our room.
It was filled with a mountain of dresses… different colours, textures, lengths, and styles.
A whole rack my size.
There’s no change room!
I soon discovered that wedding dress shopping means throwing my body into the sausage casing IN FRONT of people, my mother hiking up the back for me, and using my mother-in-law (to be) for balance while I step into a dress
It was D who came in, after we’d been there for an hour and a half, and pulled tulle, lace, and bling from the racks.
She danced around me with swirls of white, puffs of feathers, and compliments about my skin.
I saw white light.
And then there in the mirror was my reflection.
I was wearing THE DRESS.