Wedding Store

        

        Another sight on my daily walks is a wedding dress boutique, of all stores to be near me. I have no reason to visit that shop, since I am forty-five years past my wedding day. I peer into the shop and happily notice women of all races inside at any given time. Phew. At least the shop is not that elitist. The space is lit with white modern light fixtures. There are small dressing rooms surrounding a large mirror and a platform

    I watch youngish women step into the store with their mothers and friends. I see their reflection in a three-way mirror. The women stand on a platform and view themselves this way and that. Many have an insecure look, being exposed as a bride in a mirror. Childlike, they put a finger up to their lips or cross their arms to cover their midsection. They do not seem like brides, more young girls trying on princess gowns. The young women are unaware that they can be viewed from the street.

        Most people probably walk by and ignore the establishment. But, I find it impossible to ignore a wedding dress boutique with an abundance of tule, lace, silk, and satin. I am drawn to the various shades of white and the lusciousness of so much splendor. Weddings are auspicious events in the life of a woman, an undeniable truth, women’s liberation notwithstanding. Either girls dream about getting married, or hope they will never marry. But marriage is a milestone, an entry into adult life, whether the couple is up to the challenge or not.

        I imagine—but cannot see—the miniature pearls and sparkles adorning the bodices of the dresses. Odd to see the twenty to thirtyish women, with their sloppy buns or ponytails, in strapless wedding gowns, modeling their choices. I think strapless wedding gowns are dumb. So few women look attractive in this style. Imagine, being afraid that your dress might slip down during the wedding and reception?

        My mind wanders to happiness. Will the women be happy? Who are they marrying? Will they be content? Thoughts travel to my wedding. I loved my wedding dress, an unusual flowing white gown with a hood instead of a veil. Bizarre as it sounds, the material was polyester. It was 1976 after all. The advantage of polyester is that it does not wrinkle. I fancied myself an angel or a spirit floating about the evening. The dress enabled me to be an ingenue, beguiling yet innocent, not that I was completely without experience. The dress fit me figuratively and actually. I was guileless, and the outfit emphasized my figure softly.

        Back to the young women of the 21st century who are rarely innocent but equally unjaded, I daresay. Do they understand what extraordinary compromises and adaptations will have to be made? Do they foresee that a strong, empathic partnership will be vital for the marriage to survive? Perhaps, it is better that they remain dewy-eyed. I wish them the best and not so much knowledge that their dreams will be destroyed before they begin. I hope the couples are compatible sexually and enjoy common interests. Mazel Tov!