Secret Confession

I have spent this evening doing something that I am absolutely ashamed of.
First of all, let me just say that I pride myself in not being one of those girls. I think that I am very level headed, practical, committed to my career, friends and family. I enjoy my independence now, and do not strive to be in a relationship, get married or have babies just because everyone around me is. Don’t get me wrong, I hope to someday. I think. I’m just certainly am not yearning for it. Okay, with that disclaimer out there I will now admit to my bad and shameful behavior.
I had a moment of weakness, a moment that lasted several hours actually. I found myself with nothing to do on this Thursday afternoon. No friends around. My roommate gone for the evening. Had coffee with my cousin. I moped around the apartment for a bit. I blew off a date with a guy I have casually been seeing. I vacuumed my curtains and cleaned out my fridge. You get my point, I was in a blah mood and basically I just dilly dallied all day. And then when I could think of nothing else to do I went to my closet.
It started innocently enough, I tried on a dress I haven’t worn out in over a year, admired myself in the mirror for several minutes and then threw it on the floor only to move on to the next one. Soon I had moved on to dressy dresses, the dresses I would never wear, and then the bridesmaid dresses. And then, because I am cursed enough to have a large closet, because I am cursed to have one of my best friends as a bridal consultant and another as a seamstress and because somehow I got conned into “holding” them, I moved far to the back of the closet to the 4 sample wedding gowns that secretly reside back there.
I tried on all four. By the last one I was exhausted from my frenzy. Too exhausted to change out of it. A beautiful 2005, strapless, ivory Watter and Watters gown, it was designed for a girl about 5 inches taller than me, but this just made the sweeping train longer, it was lovely but there was clearly no way that I could show anyone how lovely I looked.
I locked the front door as I had a distant image in my head that the date I had cancelled would show up and find me sulking in a wedding gown like a psycho. I washed the dishes, I made some dinner, I drank several glasses of wine, I watched a movie, I took a nap, I made sure to check myself out in every mirror in my house. It was nice. I didn’t feel so much like a pretend bride as I felt more like a pretend princess when I was 8 and used to run around and refuse to take off my tiara and tutu.
Later, cleaning up the mess I made of my room and my closet was not so nice, but at least I was in a good mood. It is clearly not the gown that makes you a bride, and I was happy to discover that wearing one didn’t unlock some secret longing desire to be one quite yet. On a much smaller scale I did discover though that the outfit can make an attitude, clothes can make you happy and a dress can bring you peace, at least for the afternoon.

PS-I needed to use this picture because I love this scene, I am a girl from this generation after all...