The Dress

Yesterday was THE DAY.  D-Day.  Dress Day.  The day I had been dreading since the first week of June when Cocoon Silk called to say my dress was ready for me to come try on.  I conveniently put that off because first I had finals, then I had lots of appointments, had to take care of my new puppy, lots of Zumba classes to teach, a trip to Mexico for my bestie's wedding, my birthday... etc, etc.  

Finally, a week and a half ago, I dialed my mom's cell number and, before I could change my mind, told her that I needed her to call Cocoon Silk and make me an appointment to try my dress on.  Any Saturday, any time of day.  She called back two days later and said, "Saturday, August 3rd at 4 o'clock."  I texted my best friend A and asked if she and her mom would go with me (my mom couldn't go.)

I can remember a while ago, maybe a month or two, crying hysterically in bed, trying to explain to Corky why I was so scared to try on my dress.  I cried so hard I got the hiccups and I couldn't breathe.  My head hurt the whole next day from crying so hard the night before.  

On Monday I went to see my PMHNP.  Her name is Meg.  I told her I'd been feeling anxious for a while, more so than usual.  She asked me the dosages of the meds I'm taking, and I told her.  I had cut one in half because I wanted to wean off of it.  She told me, "that's the reason you're so anxious.  Bring it back up to your original dosage and that should help."  Thank goodness she told me that, or else I may never have made it through yesterday!  

Friday night I did not sleep well.  I stayed out till about midnight that night, at a late-night coffee shop with A and our other friend L.  I got home around 12:30, showered, took my meds and was in bed by 1:00am.  I asked Corky if we could watch a show because I knew I'd never be able to relax if we didn't.  Thankfully, I drifted off halfway through X-Files.  But it was not a good night's sleep.  I had nightmare after nightmare, all related to weddings.  Dresses, flowers, earrings, high heels... they all morphed into eerie caricatures of themselves in my restless sleep.  I woke up time and again, burning hot, freezing cold, sweating, freaked out.  I couldn't wait for morning!

I got up and went to L's Zumba class at 9:00am.  By the time I got home, Corky had left for work already.  I cleaned the kitchen, cleaned off the table, did two loads of laundry, and I was jumping out of my skin.  It was only noon!  I called my dad, he came over and we took Abby and Jax to the dog park.  Finally, it was time for me to go get ready.

To my intense horror, I couldn't find the strapless bra I intended to wear with the dress.  The next best thing was to wear another one and tuck the straps down, so I did.  I messed with my hair.  Did my makeup.  Washed it all of, did it again.  Finally I couldn't procrastinate anymore.  It was time to go.  

I drove into NW Portland, giving myself a pep talk.  I was horrified to find that I had a huge lump in my throat.  I parked the car several blocks from the shop (which was at 21st & Hoyt.)  As I walked, I texted my friend R saying, "I'm walking from my car to the shop to try on my dress.  I feel like I am walking to my own execution!"

As I neared the shop, I realized I really had to pee.  I didn't want to walk into the dress shop because A and her mom weren't there yet and I didn't want to try it on without them there.  So I went into a Starbucks, ordered an iced tea that I didn't want, used the bathroom while they made it, and then tossed it in the trash as soon as I walked out the door.  $2.45 down the drain.  Oh well.  At least I wouldn't pee my pants!

I waited outside Cocoon Silk until 4:01.  A and her mom were having trouble parking.  I couldn't wait any longer.  I was late and I hate being late.  I texted A, "I'm going in.  See you when you get here."  I took a deep breath, let it out slow, and walked up the steps.  I was vibrating with terror and excitement.  Part of me couldn't wait to see the dress!  Another part of me never wanted to see it at all.

The bell above the door jangled noisily as I entered.  It was just like I remembered.  Mannequins everywhere, some with heads, some without, all clad in yards and yards of silk in every color.  The bay windows were full of gowns, bridesmaid dresses and jewelry.  Silk curtains hung from ceiling to floor all around, creating almost a fun-house vibe.  A lady I'd never seen before was sitting behind a small desk to my right.  

"Can I help you?" she chirped.

"Yeah," I mumbled, trying to unfreeze my legs.  "I'm here to try on an appointment.  I mean, a dress!  I have an appointment to try on a dress!"  Geez, I thought. Could I sound any dumber?

"Sure, what's your name?"

"Kate."  At least I got that part right!

"Oh!" The woman's face lit up excitedly.  "You're the one with the black beauty!"

I was confused.  "The what?"

Before the lady could answer, a young woman appeared from a side door, carrying The Dress.

"The black beauty!  We've all been waiting so long to see this dress tried on!"

Well my friends, it was aptly named.  It is a beautiful dress.  And yes, it is black.  I stared at it.  It looked like the girl was carrying an artifact, rather than my wedding gown!  I couldn't believe that I was about to try that on.  And where the heck was A??  I thought the dress looked awfully small....

"Here's your fitting room," said the girl carrying my 'black beauty'.  "Let me know if you need help zipping it up."

I glanced around frantically, but A was nowhere to be seen.  It was time, and I was all on my own.  "Okay..." I said, then joked "you mean, let you know when I need help zipping up!"

I went in the dressing room, pulled the (silk) curtain closed, and I immediately understood why the shop was named Cocoon Silk.  I was totally surrounded by white silk.  I wanted to just stay in there forever.  (I'm sure it's not named Cocoon Silk because of it's dressing rooms, but it certainly fit!)  I hung up my bag, took off my clothes, and stared and stared at Black Beauty.

After two or three deep breaths, I reached up and slipped the little loops off the hanger.  The dress went limp in my hands.  It wasn't as heavy as I'd expected.  It didn't look too menacing, but there was just one problem:  how the heck do I get into it?  After a few attempts that went absolutely nowhere, I finally dropped it straight down onto the floor, kicked my foot into the top, found the floor, and added the other foot.  My whole body buzzed as I reached down to pull it up.

At first I thought it wasn't going to make it up over my hips.  I thought I might have to try to pull it over my head.  That would have been difficult to say the least.  Fortunately, the dress slid up over my hips without any trouble.  I pulled it up to my armpits and reached behind to try to inch the zipper up.  I moved it up a few inches and then did what I'd been dreading: I pulled the dress together in the back to see by how much it would be too small.  Immensely relieved was I to discover that it seemed like it would zip without protest.

"Okay!" I called to the girl, "I need help now!"  

She came in.  She hooked the clasp.  And zipped. The. Dress. All. The. Way. Up.

"Hmm..." she said.  "Maybe just a little loose, but its actually a very, very close fit!  Come on out and look."

I shuffled out and was face to face with a giant wall of mirrors, not unlike the mirrors I'm in front of daily when I teach Zumba.  Lo and behold, the dress looked pretty damn good!  I stepped up on the stool, and the girl and the woman zoomed about, adjusting ruffles, fixing the train, checking to see how it fit around my back and hips.  I went and got my heels that I plan to wear for the wedding and put them on so the girl could pin it up to hem it.

As I stood there in my heels and dress, A and her mom came in.  Their eyes widened and they both grinned.  A came up and hugged me.  The first thing she said to me was, "your boobs look GREAT!"  I burst out laughing.  Thank God for A!!!  Her mom fussed around me, like a mom should, asking questions about the fraying of the organza (which was normal) and the sweetheart "neckline" (more like chest line!) and other such things.  A took pictures.  The train looks awesome.

The lady and the girl explained how we'd bustle it.  They asked me questions about my theme and my colors.  They ooh'ed and aah'ed over Black Beauty and told me that it went perfectly with my tattoos and that they thought it was the perfect dress for me.  A said, "I can't imagine you getting married in white, Kate.  You'd look beautiful, but it just wouldn't be you!"

The girl told me they'd call me again in about two months, about a month before the wedding, for the final fitting.  I paid the remaining balance and we were gone.

I lived.  I have a wedding dress.  And it's fucking gorgeous.