weddingdressgate

I'm having a wedding dress ordeal.

Weddingdressgate officially kicked off weeks ago, climaxing yesterday afternoon, and have since been in a bit of a bind.

One of the key features of my dress* is not currently on my dress already. Bear with me on the cryptics here. This key feature has to be ordered separately to the dress.

This is normal, when you want to customise your vibe, add some sort of unique touch to the whole effect.

So. After around 45 hours of solid Internet searching and Pintresting, and Etsying, months and months ago,** I settled on a shortlist of five.

And then for weeks, I deliberated on these items. Like a woman bride obsessed.  Did I want this colour or this colour? Did I want it to be this texture or that texture? WHICH one would I choose?

Yes. It plagued me for weeks. While the rest of the world thought about the EU referendum, whether their train had a replacement bus, winter sales at Zara, I thought about this thing. All day. All night.

Then, just as I was about to make a decision, I found a new one. And it was perfect. It was so brilliantly perfect, I couldn't quite believe I had stumbled upon it in my futile attempt to follow wedding blogs and pinboards.

An American retailer was selling it, and it was fucking dear. It was $$$$$$$$$$$$$$. So one of my American colleagues kindly offered to pay for it in dollar terms, not pounds, and pick one up on his next trip to the States, in a few days.

Perfect right?

Well. This is what happened:
Timeline 9 January - 18 February.

My colleague went to the store in San Francisco. Wasn't there. So he bought it online, and it was sent from New York. Got it shipped to Seattle where he next went. Didn't arrive in time for him to take back to London with him. His sister shipped it out to me in London.

7 weeks pass. SEVEN WEEKS.

By now, I'm looking on eBay, other forums, worrying my backside right off my body.

It arrives yesterday.

IT'S THE WRONG COLOUR. Not a bit off, like a taupe instead of a beige, but a whole new colour spectrum. It's the opposite of what I imagined. I tore open the box, "Hooray, it's arrived, break out the Bolinger baby, it's here!"***

I feverishly try and imagine using this one, no dice. It's not going to work. And the right one I want is now sold out because it's so popular. I try eBay, I try everywhere to find a pre-owned one. Hell, I go through to page 36 of Google's search pages.

By now I'm dogged, and I've fast accelerated into one of "those" brides.

I find one on eBay that's not quite the same. The seller doesn't ship to the UK. I write her a note begging her to make an exception for me.

Meanwhile, I'm barking down the phone to the original US retailer, asking them to find me me the right one, and resend it to me. They find one after scouring branches across America. In the right colour.

The transaction starts again. If it takes another 7 weeks, it's going to fail. This time, the thing is from a branch in San Diego being shipped to Seattle, where my poor colleague will be once again (thank fuck that streak of luck!) in two weeks.

But to be safe, I've ordered the one off eBay too. And depending which comes first, I'll reBay it. Can't take chances at this stage - my dress needs alterations and shit and I have two months TODAY.

OK, I'm freaking out just writing that. Can you tell? Can you tell I'm writing this in a shrill, high pitched shriek?

No, no I'm calm. It's fine. It'll be fine.

Peas: "OK, see? It's kind of like the original one...it's ivory though and not champagne."

She Who Loves Tweed: Dude.

Peas: ..I'm doing it aren't I. I'm doing that thing mad brides do.

Tweedy: Yes. Yes you are. I did the same with the napkins in the end. It happens to the best of us.

Itemgate rumbles on.

* Will tell you one day. Maybe. Call me. Maybe.
** This is important. My time management talents are frankly exemplary in this such case.
*** All this time, hiding this ordeal from the Brit because he's obviously not allowed to know what I will look like.