It was about two weeks before my wedding to Keegan, my rich older man. The groomsmen, who were all from different states, had to find a local tuxedo place with the specific colors and sheens I had chosen. All of the groomsmen and bridesmaids were going to be in a red satin, with the bride and groom in champagne and ivory. It was going to be very elegant and just like I had always imagined it.
Because I was still nursing and working full-time, I ended up being late for my own dress fitting appointment by about an hour. As soon as I arrived, the clerk notified me that the seamstress had already left for the day, and I would need to reschedule. But I simply couldn’t make it back to this location again before the wedding, since it was about a 45-minute drive one way, and I had far too much to do. I started crying hysterically right there in the store.
My mother, my mother-in-law, my father-in-law, and my fiancé with our newborn child were all there waiting for me. They all wanted to see my dress fitting and then to see the groom’s tuxedo fitting next door. My mom hugged me as she tried to console me.
In all the commotion, the clerk managed to find another seamstress who had just punched out for the day and was still in the parking lot smoking. Thankfully, she agreed to come inside and assist us.
The clerk was genuinely nice and trying to help, but as soon as we thought disaster was diverted, another one cropped up. “I’m sorry Miss, but it seems as though someone has either misplaced or sold your corset. We don’t have another corset in that size for the style you had selected. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how this happened.”
Out of the large entourage there with me, not a single word was said. You literally could’ve heard a pin drop.
Keegan hugged me and asked if there was somewhere else I could purchase the items, before the clerk interrupted with two different corsets that might work with my dress. Neither of them were a good fit and I had never felt more deflated. I just wanted to go home.
The seamstress asked me my last name, so I gave her my maiden name. She went back to keep looking and about 20 minutes later, she came out and asked what my married name would be. A couple minutes later, the seamstress returned with my bag with everything inside, just as I had put on layaway. It turns out that the clerk used my married name instead of my maiden name on the label.
The clerk and seamstress both helped me get dressed quickly. When I finally had everything on and stepped out of the dressing room into the corridor of mirrors, there was a larger crowd than when I had started. Two other brides were being held up because of this whole ordeal, so they ended up watching along with my family.
I had never been more nervous. I had picked the dress out on my own so nobody had seen it before.
The alterations were exactly what I wanted and it fit like a glove. “Oh, you look stunning, dear. What did you do right to land yourself this one and where can I get one?” my father-in-law joked with Keegan.
Everyone was smiling, including my mother-in-law, who I was sure was going to hate my dress. It really was the perfect ending to what had been the most stressful weeks of wedding planning. We were finally in the last stretch before marriage.