Bridesmaid's Blog
Have you been asked to be a bridesmaid? Not sure what to expect? Share in Emma's experiences over the next seven months as she heads deep into bridesmaid territory...
Where were we? Musing about little girls’ dreams and fairytales…oh yes, it was wedding dress time! Back to that industrious day spent traipsing the streets, sampling fabrics and choosing colours. After hours in the shops, we were happy to rest our feet and go home, but then Sarah-Jane spotted a wedding dress boutique. She turned, gave her two friends a pleading look and said, “Would you mind?” Of course not! I’m a bridesmaid, and I wear a permanent smile on my face… So off we marched, up a flight of stairs, and straight into a glorious den of dresses.
First up was a leisurely look through the shop’s dress manual – a useful system which allows a prospective bride to choose the dresses she likes, check if they are available on the rack, and put them aside to try on for a small fee. For Sarah-Jane, the most important elements of her dream frock were flow, a graceful back, and a train (of sorts). The bride-to-be promptly chose four dresses by a process of elimination and disappeared (with happy, flushed cheeks and an enormous grin on her face), into the curtained changing room. Inside, the shop assistant helped her to lace up – a rather lengthy process, which only heightened the suspense for Jess and me as we waited outside, expecting nothing short of a bridal fashion show.
Suddenly, out came Sarah-Jane in a flurry of white - we gasped, her baby sister giggled, and her mum beamed from ear to ear. All we needed to do was hit the music (Aretha Franklin belting out ‘This will be…an everlasting love’ would have done it!) And of course Sarah-Jane looked beautiful – and a whole lot more grown-up than the tomboy I had grown up with.
But girls can’t hide their inner critics for too long, especially not when it comes to an issue as serious as a wedding dress. So, as Sarah-Jane twirled and swirled, we decided that, nah, one was too puffy, the other too clingy. Of course, there was the inevitable ‘Does my bum look big in this?’, at which we just had to roll our eyes – Sarah-Jane is as petite as they come. But on number three we hit gold, as she slipped on what I like to call a ‘glory gown’.
Sculptured and tight-fitting in the waist, with a sweetheart neckline, it fell beautifully to the floor in a mass of creamy white. The back was clinched lower down, falling into a long, wide train. Now, before I start to sound like an MC at a fashion show, let’s just say that it looked right - a moment when fate and choice combined magically. It was also one of those moments when the bride’s mum experiences a small intake of breath, and realises how much of herself she sees in her grown-up daughter. It is the moment when the bride-to-be puts back her shoulders, cocks her head, and decides that, after years of teenage mirror-misery, she finally loves what she sees – and when the friend looks up and remembers the years of shared school lunches and secret handshakes, and wonders where all the time has gone.
But before I weep onto my keyboard, let’s just say that Sarah-Jane walked out of the shop beaming, and with at least an inkling of how her dream dress might end up looking. Till next time…
If you have any comments, feel free to email me: blogs@celebrationhouse.co.za
Click here to read previous editions of the Bridesmaid’s blog
