Sunday I finally got to see my dress. After six months (and several episodes of Say Yes to the Dress in which the brides forgot what their dresses looked like and hated them upon arrival), I was thrilled to get to see my dress. I packed up my traveling support group, this time including my Mom, B's Mom, B's Granny, my aunt, and my cousin, and headed to the dress store for a 1pm appointment. We were quite the entourage, me and my crew plus a huge box of shoes and jewelry to try on during the fitting.
The dress appeared in the room in an appropriately fluffy bag and, I have to say, it's perfect. Exactly as I remember, only better. Mom loved it. I loved it. The seamstress loved us, because the only thing it needs is a bustle. No hem work, thank goodness!
We tried a few variations and additions, things I thought I had wanted when I had originally tried on the dress, but it turns out that, like Mr. Rogers, I like it just the way it is.
I did learn that this alterations gig is a tough business. The lady stuck herself and left (I kid you not) a sizeable dot of bright red blood on the back of the dress. Mom and I froze, but Seema was unfazed. "No problem. It happen all the time. Have special liquid to get blood out, just for times like this." Thanks to Seema, I can honestly say that blood (hers), sweat (the makers), and tears (from the entourage) definitely went into the dress!
I go back in two weeks to check the bustle and bring it back home. Now to install a ceiling hook to keep it off the floor...