The Mothership

David's Bridal is the largest retail chain of bridal wear in the United States. Their stores pop up in strip malls like baby's breath in a bride's bouquet. When I was searching for a wedding dress, almost two years ago, David's Bridal was not an option. However, it's the number one stop on most brides' journey and it's where my friend, Amy, has decided to get her gown. I went with Amy, her mom, and her grandma on a preliminary dress shopping trip over the weekend in an awful snowstorm.

Amy is just beginning her bridal journey. She has a dress in mind, but being a bit of a tomboy with scant knowledge of the terminology made the process overwhelming and awkward. She is such a tomboy she doesn't even own a "little black dress". David's Bridal is set-up to trick the eye into seeing a boutique with racks of dresses to browse. Every gown is encased in plastic and basically the same color. Even a champion browser, like me, could not wrap my head around these dresses. They just hang limp like fish on a line. Shiny and delicious, but devoid of shape. When it comes time to try on dresses the brides are on display to each other. Other customers were constantly walking in front of us obscuring our view of Amy. It created a competitive and catty atmosphere.

One girl swept by as someone in her viewing party spotted Amy in her gown and said, "Oh, look at that dress! What about that one?" and Prissy Snobinson came to a dead stop turned up her little nose and said, "Oh no, that's awful, not for me." A rude, backhanded, and uncalled for aside. I stared open mouthed at the girl. In retrospect, I should have stuck my boot out and sent her sprawling to the floor. I should always carry a cup of scalding coffee specifically to throw at girls like her. But, in reality, the girl is a stranger and of no importance to us. She's a bridezilla and confronting her would be stooping to her level. No one wants to be featured on the local news after getting into a cat fight at a bridal shop. If Prissy Snobinson could look at Amy and not see that there was a real-live girl wearing the dress then we should ignore the monster parading in front us wearing a girl's skin. I heard at least three other people walk by Amy and say, "That's a pretty dress," because it was. It was simple and understated in a classic way.

Amy was a blank canvas and the consultants had fun bringing accessories for her to try. She experimented with veils, ostentatious floral headbands, and jewelery. As sweet and open-faced as a toddler learning to walk, Amy navigated the world of brides. At her next fitting she'll be stronger; having learned to walk before she ran. Then she can choose the dress that shall become her armor against the world. When a girl begins the transition to bride she must decide what's important to her, to her family and for the wedding. Judging from what I saw at David's Bridal, where brides from all walks of life merge, some brides have their priorities straight and others need to be reminded what this whole wedding tradition is truly about. Or walked down an aisle straight to a guillotine.