Oh, Right: People Are Creepy!

So, as loyal readers will know, I've already purchased at least one wedding dress that I won't be wearing. It's not a returnable item, so I decided I would try to re-sell it. I listed it on Tradesy, and after a few weeks of a bite here and there but no buyer, I decided on a whim to also list it locally, on Creepslist. I mean, Craigslist.

No, actually, I mean Creepslist. The post, advertising a "beautiful, elegant wedding dress; never worn" got a response within five minutes of going live.

The  response was this (sic sic sic):

U LOOKIN 2 HOOK UP? LETS GET 2GETHER.
U CAN BRING THAT WEDING DRESS.

In other words, some random Creepster was all like:

"BRING THE DRESS. Yes?"

And I was all like:

"WHAAAAAAAAT? No. No. Nononononono."

This message (thankfully sent through the anonymous, email-hidden Craigslist messaging system) has reminded of two important things:

1. There are people in the world who see "never-worn wedding dress" and think I have a shot with this vulnerable chick! I bet she wants to hook up with me and do freaky things while wearing a dress because she is sad! These people freaking LOVE Craigslist. This is probably why Craigslist hides your real email address. And why Best of Craigslist is a thing.
2. Despite still having some AAAIIIEEEEE GETTING MARRIED IS SCARY moments, I am really glad I have a cool partner I am going to marry. Because getting a message like this, just for listing a wedding dress for sale, reminded me of what dating can be like. At least for the immediate future, there is zero chance of me putting on glasses colored rose by time and distance and romanticizing what dating (at least, my dating life) was actually like.

Thanks, Craiglist. You have yet to bring me any actual money, but you sure do deliver some important life lessons.

I Won't Be a Princess Bride, But...

Okay. After a deeper previous post, which yielded some truly thoughtful comments on what's in a name (thanks, y'all!), I was going to go to my next think-piece. But people keep asking for pictures of me trying on wedding dresses. So, while I may not ever be a Princess Bride, in the words of one famous farm boy...

Enjoy the pictures. (And next time, I'm going to tell you how I *really* feel about a certain major bridal apparel company. And then, back to the think pieces. Probably. And more updates to #TheList!)

THE DRESSES*

There was the dress with the lovely back...

Kudos to the MOB for this artsy shot.

And the dress that taught me I truly hate chiffon...

I like nothing about this. No. Thing.

And the dresses that taught me I actually don't hate lace and/or some delicate detailing...

And the one princess-y dress that I did kinda like...

And the other princess-y dress - the one that wanted to TAKE OVER THE WORLD:

This dress was big.

Dramatically, emphatically big.

GIANT DRESS IS COMING FOR YOU!

*None of these are THE dress. But each of them taught me something, bringing me one step closer to figuring out what to wear for the big day. Even GIANT DRESS. Thanks to the MOB and the Diana for taking pictures, and helping me keep this stressful outing light. 

The Princess Wedding Dress I Bought on Ebay

Princess in the Front.

I bought a wedding dress.

But don't get too excited. It's not THE DRESS.

It's a beautiful dress. A total, 100% Princess Wedding Dress. I mean, if a big-eyed, rags-clad heroine with evil step-relations is told by her Fairy Godmother to close her eyes, and Bibbidy Bobbidy Boo, wand waves, sparks fly -- when the air clears and she opens her eyes, this is the sort of dress the newly-revealed princess-to-be is wearing.

I've been stalking wedding dresses on ebay for a few weeks now, not as a serious buyer, but just to see what's out there, what I like, and that sort of thing. But this baby caught my eye. She was elegant. She was new, with tags still attached. And somehow, her siren song missed most ears, and so amazingly, I bought her for $50 plus shipping.

I made the purchases for a few reasons, ranging from silly-but-understandable (this retailed for $750, was an overstock floor model never actually worn - did I mention I got it for $50, people!?) to dumb-and-admittedly-ridiculous (I've done nothing else, planning-wise, all month, and this somehow felt like, well, something)... but mostly, I bought it because I just needed to know.

Is this going to be me? Is this what I want? Am I going to be a princess bride?

That's what I would have wanted to be, ten years ago. (Closer to twenty years ago, I would have coveted a princess-y wedding dress like this, but only if the Prince Charming who would meet me at the end of the aisle was Dean Cain, specifically Dean Cain as Clark Kent/Superman, since all other boys were still gross.) A beautiful, glamorous girl, transformed and almost unrecognizable in my resplendent royal white gown.

(Elegant Bridal) Party
in the Back.

The dress is chiffon, and has the sort of train that requires attendants, or at least solid arrangement and a reliable floor to drag it across; it even has a dainty little wrist strap, so the wearer can hold up the train when it can no longer be safely dragged.

When it arrived, the box was heavier than I had expected it to be. I tried it on, all by myself. Somehow it was even heavier out of the box, weighed down with layers and detailing... and, if you'll forgive me a little purple prose spilled across the pure white dress, it also shuddered with the weight of dreams and expectations now expired.

The dress is beautiful. But it isn't me.

Some part of me already knew it wouldn't be. But I had to buy it; I had to really and truly know.

Don't worry, Mom: I'm not really going to buy a dress on eBay, sight unseen, to just rip off the band-aid, forego the Ritual of Dress Shopping, and have done with it.  We can go and try on dresses. But when we do, I'm pretty sure I won't be trying on a lot of big, poofy princess dresses. They're lovely. But they're not what I want anymore, just like I don't want red roses or Fairy Godmothers or Dean Cain.

I want something that feels like me. The best, most beautiful, polished-and-shined me, of course - but me. Not some pining princess, at last saved by the arrival of magical helpers who make everything a picture-perfect fantasy. All grown up, I'm the sort of girl who prefers the cupcake to the frosting. I don't like it when things are too sugar-y, too pretty to be believed. I didn't outgrow my old dreams. I grew into goals and a life that I find even more appealing.

So the dress is back on eBay. Hopefully, I'll get at least some of my money back on it, which I'll squirrel away for when I find THE DRESS, and maybe in the meantime I'll get to make some other couple happy when they score the princess dress of their dreams.

Want to hear something funny? Can't make this stuff up: the current high bidder's user name is MrSappy####. 

I KID YOU NOT.

(PS I know, I know, I should never refer to anything as Princess Bride without referring to the movie. I promise an overt reference to TPB in a later post, to make up for it.)