Paper Dolls, Life Size Edition

The people at the wedding shows are starting to recognize us. That probably means we're going to too many, but honestly, we always seem to come away with something else free or a new idea. I'll stop going when it stops helping, I suppose. This recent one we attended in part because it was a chance to show Jimmy the Gateway Center room we were considering (awesome, but way too expensive with their food) and because a baker who can do castle cakes would be there.

The baker was recommended to us by the Dillards saleslady, and we both fell in love with the castle cakes on her web site. A close examination of her cakes on display told us she was quite talented, and her cake tastes good, too. Unfortunately, she is also on the high end for cost. Still, she's the first we've seen that does castles, and since Jimmy chose the bridge in front of Cinderella Castle to trip on something and ask me to marry him, we've got this whole fairytale thing going on.

That, and Jimmy's all about the free cake. He carries the bag full of surprisingly heavy weddingshit at the shows, and bounces from caterer to baker to candymaker snagging free samples. He discovered calamari at this show, and then tried to kiss me tasting like squid. Bleech! I smacked him with the long-stemmed red rose one of the florists gave me. Don't worry, no thorns.

The show was notable for two other reasons. First, the fashion show was at least 65 percent plus-size models. Yaaaaay! Nothing has been so annoying in this process (besides the part where we're broke) as the skewed size of the dresses. I get that a majority of brides doing the traditional thing are in their early twenties and have not yet borne a child, but even when I met that description, I still had hips, dammit.

Champagne & Lace Bridal apparently understands that the average American woman is a size 14, not 4. I let them sucker me into making an appointment (which I usually avoid at all costs) because their gowns are clearly designed for adults. I don't know what they'll cost, but it's worth a try.

The other notable item at the show was a horse-drawn carriage service. I couldn't help myself; I grabbed a flyer. Sensing a sucker, the salesman (in full carriage-driver costume) offered to let me sit in it. As Jimmy and I sat in the carriage, he leaned over and said, "Let me give you my sales pitch, then you can tell me I'm full of it." I liked him immediately. His pitch was good, and both of us instantly fell in love with the idea: a nice quiet sunset ride in a horse-drawn carriage after the ceremony to take a breather together before delivering us to the reception.

I knew it was just a pipe dream, that we're supposed to be cutting costs out of the wedding, not adding costs to it. We got out of the carriage and I sighed, putting the flyer in the bag. Then Jimmy surprised me by saying, "Oh, we gotta do that." I reminded him that the budget is too high anyway, and he insisted: it was perfect, and it fit the whole fairytale theme. He really really wanted it! I shook my head and said, "Okay, where do we find another $350?"

Still working on that part.

The next day was my appointment at David's Bridal. Yes, I know. DB is the Wal-mart of the Wedding Wonderland. High-pressure sales, service by assembly line and inferior products, or so the articles say. But you know what? I haven't yet found a dress shop selling wedding gowns for women in my size under $500. I've found a web site or two that sells in my size, but you have to order from a catalog and pay in full before you get to actually try on the dress, and trust that if you hate it or it looks awful on you, you can return it. Maybe. Sort of. If the moon is in alignment.

I know that probably I'll get my dress from a consignment shop or used on eBay. At first I was worried about buying someone else's bad karma, but I'm getting over that as I see the prices. Cruising the dress shops is important so I can see what I like and what looks good on my figure shape, so that when I find a good buy online or used, I know whether I should jump on it. As I told Jimmy, if I buy a used dress for $100 and it looks lousy, I can always resell it and try again. Buying a $500 dress from a shop is decidedly non-returnable.

I've also learned that once we tell vendors we're trying to do a whole wedding on $5,000, they lose interest in us fast. Therefore, I have patented the line, "We aren't sure what the budget will be yet. We've got 18 months to go, so we're testing out all our options to figure out how much we need to save."

That's the line I gave David's Bridal. The one I liked the most was a quasi-Renaissance V-front style with red detailing and inset. I can order it in ivory with dark blue detailing, which I've seen on their site and it's just gorgeous. The only thing I didn't like about it was that it was strapless, and I want some kind of lace over my shoulders unless I plan to do pushups for the next eighteen months.

Just imagine this in ivory, with dark blue inset, and without the goofy grin.

Apparently David's Bridal will add lace straps or sleeves in a variety of styles for $39, including the cost of the alteration. That price seems a little too good to be true. All the seamstresses I know live far away! Anyone know if that's standard?

The next dress kicked off Jimmy's waterworks. Okay, I love the man and I know he acts all gruff and silent and tough-guy with his leather jacket that weighs forty pounds. (No kidding, the coat-check kid at the bridal show remarked that Jimmy's coat weighs a ton. I think it's lined with lead sheeting.) But anyone who knows him at all figures out quick that Jimmy is a giant marshmallow who sniffles at the end of sappy movies and is prone to snuggly hugs.

I tried this dress on twice, and each time he teared up when I stepped out. This amused Johanna the Saleslady very much. I liked it quite a bit, though I'm not entirely sold on the bodice. It's kind of... busty. But that didn't seem to bother Jimmy. (Shaddup.)

Look, Ma! Sleeves! Almost kinda ... okay, they are pretend sleeves...

The next dress I liked quite a bit in the store, even though it's a very plain dress until you add the floor-length coat thingie. Look, what do I know from dresses? I barely remember shopping for a dress the first time, and that was fifteen years ago in a galaxy far far away.

Note the distressed bride in the background. I thought it was a perfectly nice dress.

This one (above) looked a lot better in person than it did in the pictures. But that wouldn't be important, right? After all, who's really going to be taking my picture wearing this dress.... wait.

The next one was Johanna the Saleslady's idea, and it turned out to make the short list. I wasn't all that interested in halter dresses, but this one nearly made me a convert. It's a size too small, but they don't always have samples in my size.

Hey, I'm four pounds down this month. Let's call that progress.

All this time, Johanna the Saleslady was wrangling me in and out of dresses, not to mention about sixty yards of undergarments - apparently there needs to be about eight layers of fabric between my ass and the air. I was barefoot, since I haven't bought shoes yet and after all, we're not hemming anything.

Here's something I now know about dress shopping: I will wear my Birkenstocks. I don't care if they're clunky and will look silly with the dresses - nobody can see them anyway. After two and a half hours on my bare feet with and without miles and miles of white satin wrapped around my bod, my poor dogs were barking. Also: I am so not wearing heels to my wedding.

While I was playing paper doll with me as the doll, Jimmy got sneaky. He went over to the headpiece rack and selected a lovely tiara. Then he made me wear it.

I cannot keep a straight face in this thing.

Sneaky McMarshmallow was using my phone to take pictures and kept posting them to Facebook, in between his sniffles. Apparently there is strong public reaction to me in a tiara. I still think I look silly, but hey, it's important to Jimmy. Not princess, mind you - queen. We are not buying this one - seems that price tag stuck in my hair there says $200, so that'll be an eBay item for sure. Jimmy put it back very carefully.

Once we were done, they wrote up a list of the dresses I liked and their prices. I was dismayed that every one of them was double my ballpark budget, and the one I liked most, the Renaissance dress, was $599. Johanna the Saleslady also told me it's about to be discontinued. I figured that means a) it's going away and might be discounted to $99 next month because that's what DB does, b) it's going away and I'll just have to be screwed because I don't have $600 in the wedding fund right now, or c) it's not going anywhere and that was Johanna the Saleslady's desperate attempt to get me to buy something on the first trip.

I'll be really disappointed if it's (c), because I quite liked Johanna the Saleslady. She was sweet and helpful, shared my disdain for "Say Yes to the Dress," gave all sorts of advice (such as the best place to find a longline bustier in my *ahem* size) and really had a good eye for picking things I liked. I don't suppose I'd blame her, either, since I'm sure DB puts major pressure on their salesladies and it's not so great for her to spend two hours with someone who doesn't buy yet. It's all beside the point: the Renaissance dress would have to be a special order, and I can't afford it now or later unless there's a serious price cut. *kicks can* Still, should I end up buying a dress at DB, I'll make sure Johanna gets the credit - and I'm almost positive they'll be our choice for bridesmaid dresses.

Since I had the day off, Jimmy and I decided to make it a Weddingshit Day. We went to ArtMart and checked out the relative costs for do-it-yourself wedding invitations - that little project will consume my life and probably make me insane, but I'll do almost anything to save money. We went to Macy's to fix a problem with the registry (and I still managed to keep him from scanning a panini press). We went to Nordstrom's on Johanna the Saleslady's advice and got the price on the longline bustier. One more item for the budget. *sigh*

And we spent a lot of time talking about what we want. Things like invitations and a full plated dinner aren't as important as spending time with our friends. And we had a great example that evening: a birthday ball for my dear friend Rebekah. She'd rented an American Legion ballroom, had hors d'oeuvres and desserts, cash bar and a DJ. It was a wonderful time! People sat and talked, danced, sang along, laughed. Pictures were taken and friends were hugged.

At one point I looked around and told Jimmy, "This is all we need. A room, tables and chairs, munchies and dessert. As much as I'd love to waltz across a stately ballroom while our guests dine on prime rib, if it's just snacks and cake, I'm still marrying you." I hope he actually heard me over the music, because he nodded yes. On the other hand, maybe he's just doing that by reflex now.

I haven't talked much about this other part, but I have to mention it: I am really floored by the kind people who are offering their services as a gift. I won't put them on the spot - yet - but there are wonderful talented people who will be a part of our wedding and they are kind enough to do it for the love, as they say in the publishing biz. I have known it for many years, but these people have reminded me again and again that I am truly blessed beyond imagining in friendship. Thank you all, in advance.

Also, I am totally getting Jimmy to wear the tiara at least once. And that photo's going on Facebook too.