Last night I stood there, looking at my reflection in the window as Margaret pinned my my dress on. It was mostly assembled, only one part of the skirt left to make. I was wearing my wicked wedding shoes and my awesome hat. It suddenly dawned on me that I actually looked like a bride. And I started to cry.
Margaret was smiling and jabbering about how awesome/amazing/perfect the dress was. I remarked that I looked something like Mary Poppins to which she replied "Mary Poppins wished she looked this good." I started talking about things we still needed to do to the dress. There was really very little left to do on the dress, but I had to talk about something so that I didn't totally lose my composure.
The dress had gone together beautifully. It needed no alterations - it just fit. I still needed to crochet and attach the cap sleeves and the lace trim for the bodice, sew on the ribbon, add a few decorative buttons and a few pearls. I also had yet to embroider Silas and I's names and the date of our wedding on the inside of the dress. All hand work, for the most part. Something for me to do while I pout about Silas being so far away.
I don't know why, but I wasn't expecting to suddenly be choked up. I have (of course) been reading wedding blogs etc... and I've read about the brides that are like "The first time I tried on my dress I cried because I knew it was the one!" But it wasn't like that. I didn't go "Oh, I look so beautiful." or "The dress is perfect" or "This wedding is going to be so awesome."
It was more like "Wow. This is Silas's bride. I get to be Silas's bride." It's not about the dress, even though it's the bomb. Or the wedding, although the wedding is going to be one rockin' party with dancing and cake and amazing friends. I get to be Silas's bride.
Pictures to follow before too much longer.