Pockets would be lovely.

Might not have been the smartest move to bring only one bra---and a black one, at that---on the first excursion shopping for a wedding dress.

I had no idea what The Look was. (still don't really.) Long? Short? white? colored fabric? silk? hemp?sleeves? strapless? cocktail? mermaid? cowgirl? vintage?

I know I want something comfortable and unpretentious, but still special enough that it feels different than anything else I've ever worn... a garment made of fairly traded fabric and labor, that I'd be at ease wearing while tromping around in the woods. I've found that I don't fall for dresses easily.

(Notable exception: at our dear friends Nora and Paul's wedding this past july, I was taken in by Nora's dress: lovely soft purple vintage floor length piece with giant deep pockets. pockets would be lovely... inspired me to consider the possibility of finding something funky and already made, with stories in its seams and no particular association with "wedding" ... except I've struck out thus far. (granted, I haven't done that much on-the-ground searching).

given my nagging retail phobia, I am lucky to know good women. in early September, Andrea, Erin and Michelle accompanied me to breakfast and then two PDX dress-crafting establishments. Michelle led us to the first shop, Garnish, where another Michelle (in the pink dress) handled my total lack of vision (and lack of basic information, like my SIZE) with style. Felt comfortable in the simple strapless ivory-colored silk gown she zipped me into, (fair trade, and locally made!) and she effortlessly mocked up a half-dozen possible straps with fabric scraps and pins. I could see myself going back to that one, provided they don't mind adding pockets. My mother has offered me some lovely old hand-tatted lace that one of my great-aunts made, and it would be perfect on this dress, I think, across the bodice.
Keeping it in mind. We proceeded:



after stiff drinks at a nautically-themed bar,
and a little wee squid photography,

Erin led us to 2nd dress shop, Cocoon. More selection in dresses, colors and styles and whatnot... I tried on all sorts of dresses, mermaidy things (hard to walk) and flowy grecian thing (felt sort of like a nightgown), some fun swirly things, and some fabulous dresses that had no real association with wedding, for me.
Excellent to throw onesself into the trying-on, learn some of the vocabulary.

but still...

Feel like I'm supposed to fall in love with a dress, be captured by a vision of myself in it. Right? especially for 600 + dollars. and that hasn't happened yet.

Feeling really self-conscious about blogging. about dress searching.
it seems...
trivial. narcissistic. and kind of whiny.
however,
in the course of the dress-hunt, and general wedding-planning research, I've found that other people's wedding stories can be rather informative, and periodically comforting, especially for those of us who have no interest in the traditional, 30grand plus glittery consumption-fest women have supposedly been dreaming about since childhood, and thus can't find anything useful in the horrifying stacks of advertisement-ridden, glossy, perfumed bridal magazines.

Controversy brewing.

The blog is barely 5 minutes old, and already, controversy is brewing. Rion sets it up, then walks into the kitchen to make juice. I sit down with my coffee and start editing the description he's written. "This is supposed to be fun," he informs me from the doorway. "Not a bunch of flowery poetry about two souls crossing and ripples eddying out across the cosmic waters and love blossoming on the mountaintops." I say something about planning a wedding in the post-postmodern era. "Oh no," he hollers over the juicer, "its a post-HUMAN era. You po-mos have got to let it GO!"
He walks back into the livingroom and sees me at the computer.
"Oh no, Assata," he says to the dog. "She's beginning to blog. 'And then the landscape of West Seattle, so amazing, the birds, and postmodernism, and experience and context."

8 months to go!