Bride Elect (Evolution of a Bridezilla)
Chapter Fourteen–“Help Me Obi Wan…”
My hairdresser was a little surprised to discover that I had no desire, nor intention to “grow my hair out” for my wedding. I suppose having an “up-do” is something of a tradition when it comes to weddings. I did the whole “long hair—big hair” thing in the nineties, and I really didn’t think getting married was just cause to revisit that phase. My hairdresser seemed to be confused, but cautiously relieved.
We, my hairdresser and I, decided that all of my regular hair appointments up until the wedding would be trial runs at wedding hair (and hair accessories). That day, in particular, I had brought in few different hair accessory options. In addition to the assortment of hair-bands, I also brought in something called “twist-ins”. Twist-ins looked like tiny be-jeweled corkscrews. I had my doubts about their working, but I had nothing to lose for trying.
The hair-bands were a bit better, but the one that seemed to work the best also pinched the most. My hairdresser suggested I try it for a while to see if maybe things stretch or adjust. Without outright suggesting I go the tiara route, she implied that typically tiaras work out better than hair-bands do. I tried to explain to her my whole goddess-bride concept. She smiled and reminded me I had the time to keep looking.
Despite my hairdresser’s very Zen advice, I was getting very frustrated. I was still on the hunt for a veil, and hair-wear. I had gone to Mitchell’s and priced out the fabric. Sewing my veil vision would cost me nearly twice the price of my dress. I really didn’t want to return to the bridal shops, but I needed to do something. So, not unlike times of recent past, I resorted to an ol’standby: I went online.
First I “googled” the term “Hooded Wedding Cape”, and I got hundreds of images. It took me a while to find—again—what I was looking for. In most cases, the “hooded wedding cape” was some kind of rabbit fur trimmed garment straight from the seventies, or maybe even Dr. Zhivago. After about eighty images that made me want to sing “Somewhere My Love”, I finally saw something that made me want to say “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”
Okay, Obi-Wan wasn’t my only hope. We weren’t even in the same galaxy or time period, after all. After some investigating the website, which indeed seemed to be the whole “my only hope”, I was pleasantly delighted by the price. The listed price (after an 80% discount) cost approximately one third of my dress, and maybe one tenth of what it would cost me to sew something.
Although I had come to trust the internet in the past with regards to social media, I really had yet to trust the internet for all of my shopping needs. Ironically, the “online shopping centre” that supported this particular website was called “Trustful” ™. The English teacher saw that word, and puked in her mouth a little. How abhorrent—how abusive to the language…tut-tut-tsk-tsk-grumble-grumble…On the other hand, the emerging bridezilla within me started to laugh a maniacal laugh. It was she who went for my credit card.
Palucid must have heard the “muwahahahahaahahhhahaaahahhahaaaaahahaha” because all of a sudden he was there looking over my shoulder inquiring as to what I was up to. Jubilant with my find, I showed him. I know, the superstitious will gasp and flinch at this. They probably don’t want to hear about how Palucid also saw the dress as well. I know balking tradition doesn’t necessarily include flying in the face of superstition, and that is why I did my research. According to my research, the adage reads specifically that it is bad luck for the groom to see his bride IN her dress before the wedding day. So, for the record, I never modelled any of my wedding apparel for my groom-elect.
I appreciated Palucid’s perspective, and he was a good safe-check against the whole bridal madness thing. It was his wisdom held me steady during the whole pearl necklace/jewellery debacle. Similarly, he was there by my side during all of my “passive research” reminding me that I was not like them. So, when he looked at my hooded wedding cape, I got the unequivocal nod of approval. My goddess-bride motif was still in play!