I have an obsession for the past. I’m talking 1930’s-60’s when the music was swinging, life was full of dancing and Frank Sinatra was damn sexy! (I have an obsession for him too.) So when I became engaged, I knew right away I was going to have an old Hollywood-themed wedding.

But what about my dress? I needed something nostalgic, hollywood, yet modern for today. Oh geez, was this going to be worse than my first prom?

 My tenth grade year, I bought 3 dresses, returned them, had a custom dress made, then bought my final dress 2 weeks before when i was looking for gloves. I’m so indecisive. So I buried myself in my endless library of bridal magazines and surfaced with a beautiful dress from Badgley Mishka, a classy designer inspired by 40’s Hollywood. Perfect! 

Now generally I’m carefree about my looks, except for my nose. It’s bigger than I’d like, but I’m not going to knife it for $5,000. Think of the wedding favors I could blow that on instead! Well, I’m thankful it doesn’t grow when I tell a lie, otherwise I’d be in trouble.

I knew I couldn’t tell my Mom the cost of the Badgley Mishka dress because she’d flip, so I fibbed a little. I also knew how important it was for her to see me try on wedding dresses and make my choice, so I promised her it would be an exclusive trip for both of us. Did my nose just swell?

I just happened to be visiting my Maid of Honor, Laura,  in Boston a month later, where we scheduled an appointment to try on bridemaid dresses. Well wouldn’t you know, this shop happened to carry the Badgley Mishka line! I couldn’t try on dresses without my mom, she would be heartbroken, but it seemed silly to drive 7 hours and not get a peek! I swear this is where the devil took over.

When we arrived at L’elie on Newbury St., I was greeted by the shop owner.

“Your private showing of our wedding dresses will be with an Italian designer from Peter Langdon.” Seriously? This sounds amazing and expensive…where’s the door? But i was like a kid in a candy store, I had to look around!

We climbed the stairs and I turned to Laura, “Remember, we’re just looking. Don’t let me try anything on!” “Ok!” she said and we entered the gallery. The shop was filled with bright, magical lighting and the dresses where neatly lined up on the walls. Wow.

After telling an American women of my vintage love, she grabbed a few styles and shuffled me to the dressing room. In panic I looked at Laura, was I supposed to tell her no? Ok, maybe just one or two, what were the chances of finding the real one today?

Not so good. I stepped out of the dressing room and almost screamed at the hideous frock I was wearing. I swear it looked like I had dueled a lawn mower and lost. Feathers and stripes of fabric were hanging everywhere. “You look great!” said the assistant. Oh my gosh, was she on crack? I’d rather wear a white garbage bag. I looked at Laura who was laughing. Well maybe the Badley Miska dress would be better.

Nope. Tacky as Britney Spears’ weave. Well I wouldn’t feel bad not telling me mom about this experience. Things weren’t going so well. That’s when I heard the voice of doom herself. The Italian designer from Peter Langdon scuffled over to my mirror with a dress from her collection. “She needs to try this on.”

Looking at the dress on the hanger, I knew it was different. The dress was ivory with floral embroidery which gave it a vintage feel. I walked out of the dressing room and Laura’s face just grinned. The dress fit so perfectly. I felt like Rita Hayworth about to dance with Fred Astaire. I knew this was “the one”. 

Realizing I was probably pushing my budget, I asked how much the dress cost. Haha! Was I buying a car or a dress? I looked at Laura and we laughed for minutes. How funny, time to take it off. And as I was getting one last look at myself in the dress, the shop owner came up and offered it to me half price. “I’ll take it!” I looked around the room to see who had said such a ridiculous statement. Then realized, it was me! I couldn’t afford this dress, it was half my salary! I looked to Laura for help. She was dumbfounded but grinning.

“I just need to grab my credit card at my apartment and I’ll be right back,” I told the shop owner . As we stepped out the door, Laura and I were both bent over laughing hysterically at the biggest compulsive purchase of my life. “I didn’t know you had that kind of money!” said Laura. “I don’t! And we have 30 minutes to round it up!” I replied. The look on her face was priceless.

Now if marriage is about honesty and trust, I may have bent the rules. After borrowing money from my Maid of Honor’s mother and my Mom (who thought it was for a purse!) I was still majorly short so I called my wonderful fiance for his credit card number, forgetting to tell him the actual amount of the dress. Oops! He sweetly read off the numbers and I proceeded to call the shop and purchase my dress.

Wait….there’s a security limit on purchases out of state! Oh boy, I wasn’t going to call Bill back and profess my insanity so I did what any crazy bride would do….call the credit card company and pretend to be my future husband:

“Hello, this is Mr. Wallace,” I said in the most unmanly voice EVER, “I need to lift my limit.”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Wallace, but we need to speak to Mr. Wallace.”

“This is Mr. Wallace!”….

short pause….

“Umm, I’m sorry Mrs. Wallace, but we need to speak to Mr. Wallace.”

Would you believe I tried my line three times?! Then admitted defeat and hung up with Laura laughing uncontrollably.

I laughed along with her at how desperate I’d become when my phone rang. It was Bill. I was in the middle of the ultra quiet Boston Library. He was very loud and yes, everyone heard him….”Are you trying to buy a dress for $#*$%! Are you insane!!!!!”

I didn’t realize my dude impressions would trigger a security call to Bill verifying the activity of the account. Oh brother, now I was in trouble!

Now I’m not saying to love a man for money, but if you can talk your honey into partaking in your over the top wedding shenanigans, I might say he’s a keeper and in less an hour, that’s just what Bill did. What a guy!

To end this fairy-tale story, I bought the dress of my dreams, left it in Boston and gained a few inches length on my nose, as I couldn’t tell my mom I had bought a dress without her. After driving 7 hours to take my mom “window shopping” in Boston, we just happened to both fall in love with an ivory floral embroidered dress perfectly sized for me.

Now that’s what I call luck!