Ariel's Wedding, Part III, Busting the Budget with the Wedding Gown

Spring break has always been an eagerly anticipated time in my family. When Ariel and Charming were in school, it meant a week of sleeping in and lazing about; no rigid schedule to follow; Disneyworld! I loved having them home with me on my days off: it was an abbreviated preview of the good times to follow, come summer vacation. We went shopping, and to movies, and out to eat: places like Olive Garden and Fazoli's and Buddy's Chop House and other restaurants where Fred would NEVER go, because (A) they were "too expensive" and (B) they "didn't have nuthin' good to eat." Yes, there was a time when we really couldn't afford places like that, but after I began working for the post office, I realized that we could afford nicer places than the Krystal and Dairy Queen. It was a LOOOONG time, though, before Fred came to that realization. One day, Fred actually FORBADE us going to Buddy's Chop House. Buddy's was WAY too expensive, he said. There was no need for us to spend that much money, he said. And besides, Buddy's didn't have nuthin' good to eat. "Do NOT go to Buddy's," he commanded. I was silent. "Do NOT go to Buddy's," he repeated. "I mean it: do NOT go to Buddy's." He walked out the door, secure in the assumption that I would heed his imperial order; I closed the door behind him, looked at Ariel and Charming, and said, "Put your shoes on; we're goin' to Buddy's."

Fred has since come to realize that the king is not the only one on the throne with Power: think queen bee, black widow spider, praying mantis. Now, THOSE ladies know how to handle their men.

During spring break this year, Ariel and I had bigger plans than Buddy's. We needed to shop for wedding favors and decorations, pick out invitations and the cake, do a taste test at Calypso Cafe, look into the flowers and linen rentals, make the final decision on the reception site, and most importantly, shop for the wedding gown.

Fred called Ariel and told her he didn't want to influence her: she was to choose the site she really wanted; it was her wedding, after all; the Cumberland Room wasn't that much more expensive than the Pleasant View Wedding Chapel, anyway. She and Eric mulled it over for a few days, and ultimately decided to go with the Cumberland Room: it was bigger, had that game room, that magnificent kitchen, the PA system and DJ booth, and it had both round and banquet tables, whereas the Wedding Chapel had only banquet tables. Fred called Lady Owner and told her no thanks, but he and I might consider her place for our summer Corn Fest. It really would be great for that party, except that my kitchen at home is so much better...if only we could combine the kitchen at the Cumberland Room with the grounds at the Wedding Chapel...

Ariel and I made plans: we would shop together on my days off, Sunday and Monday. (My ACTUAL days off are Monday and Tuesday, but working nights puts a whole different perspective on everything, including the days of the week.) "Sunday AND Monday?" Fred said. "Why in the world do you think it's gonna take TWO days to do that stuff?" "Well, we've got a lot of places to go," I told him. "We've gotta go to Walmart..." "You know what Walmart's got," Fred interrupted. "...and Calypso Cafe..." "Ariel already knows what she wants from there, and I ain't gonna like it. I don't see no need o' goin' there." "...and it's gonna take AT LEAST a full day to shop for the dress..." "A FULL DAY?! To get ONE dress?! No. You go in, you try on a couple of dresses, you pick one, and you're done! That is NOT gonna take all day!"

Good grief.

We decided we'd meet on Sunday at noon at David's Bridal. If Ariel couldn't find anything she liked there, we'd go to a couple of other, more exclusive shops. Fred: "I don't see why we need to go with her to get a dress, anyway. Looks like she'd know what she wants." I fixed him with a steely eye, and told him I was her mother, and I was going with her, and that was that. But if HE didn't want to go, he was perfectly welcome to stay home.

Do you even have to ask? Of course, he went. Far be it that we should make a decision without the benefit of his expertise.

I so looked forward to shopping for the gown. This was to be truly a once-in-a-lifetime event for me. Ariel is my only daughter, and I never got to shop for a wedding dress of my own: my 'gown' was an unbleached muslin summer peasant dress that I bought at KMart for $14.95. It was pretty...for a summer dress. But shopping for a real wedding gown...! Ariel and I hadn't been clothes shopping together in such a long time. Little girls willingly wear the frilly outfits their mothers choose for them, but there comes a time when those little girls become big girls and want to wear oversized t shirts and jeans with holes at the knees, and all those pink lacy dresses get shoved to the back of the closet, where they collect dust across their little puffed shoulders, and their full skirts cultivate permanent wrinkles. I knew that I was living vicariously through Ariel when I was dressing her in her younger, more pliable years: I'd always been what you might call a 'girly girl;' I loved pastel colors and lace and full skirts and bows and frills galore; but, alas, I was also a 'chubby girl,' and it was drilled into me at an early age that chubby little girls don't wear frills and light colors and full skirts. No, chubby little girls must wear dark blues and browns and black, and straight skirts, and must be free of extravagant ornamentation. I remember like it was yesterday the shopping trip forty-some-odd years ago for new dresses for my uncle's wedding. Mama took my sister and me into the city, where I picked out a pink and white fluffy concoction with puffed sleeves and white lacy caps, a wide white sash encircling the waist and tied in a huge bow at the back, and infinitesimal tucks, making the skirt as full as one of Scarlett O'Hara's ballgowns. I wanted that dress, that dress and a full petticoat, and the matching pink patent leather purse and white lace gloves. What I got was a dark blue severely tailored two piece suit, with a plain old white slip, no purse, and plain white cotton gloves. My sister, Free Spirit, who was never bound by 'rules for chubby girls,' got the same outfit; I don't remember whether she actually liked it, or just had to wear whatever would also be acceptable on her chubby sister. Free Spirit, if you hated that outfit as much as I did, I apologize.

So this trip to David's Bridal was eagerly anticipated. As we pulled into the parking lot, we both spied Ariel crossing to enter the store. And a second later, we both realized it wasn't Ariel, but, my goodness, didn't that girl look like her, I asked Fred. When we entered the shop, there was Ariel, sitting at the reception desk, already deeply immersed in the David's Bridal book of gowns, and there was that look alike stranger sitting next to her. It was almost eerie: same size, same haircut, identical sunglasses on top of their heads, even almost identical clothing. Turned out this stranger was Belle, Ariel's best friend, who was to be the lone bridesmaid. I immediately took to her: not only was she my daughter's confidante, she was also Southern through and through, and spoke with a familiar drawl that I knew must drive Ariel crazy, as my own Southern accent does. Everywhere we went for the next two days, people thought Belle was my 'other' daughter.

Ariel was assigned a bridal consultant, and we all trooped over to a dressing area, while the consultant fetched the gowns. She brought an armload, some that Ariel had marked in the book and a couple that the consultant thought might be good, as well. I liked this shop. I know that David's Bridal is Big Business, and some of the bridal books do not recommend them at all, but dadgumit, I liked it. The salon is spacious as all get out, and mirrored just everywhere you look, and has roomy dressing and waiting areas and generous round pedestals for the bride to stand on while her family and friends admire her from every angle. It probably gets crazy busy sometimes, but this seemed to be a slow, relaxed day, and the consultant successfully conveyed the impression that her only goal in life was to find the perfect gown for my daughter. We later learned that she was new, and that Ariel had, in fact, been her very first bride; if she's as caring with all her brides as she was with Ariel, she's got one heck of a career ahead of her. She helped Ariel into the special undergarments that one must wear under a wedding dress and had her try on the first gown, which was...less than impressive. Pretty gown, yes, but just so very not-Ariel. The skirt was bustled all over; I think those bustles are called 'pick-ups' in bridal lingo: just way too fru fru for Ariel. Out of that one and into the next. And the next. And the next. Some were beautiful; some were nice, but not her style; none were hideous. I was thinking about a tiara..." Ariel said. The consultant brought over a sparkling coronet of tiny crystals and placed it on her head. Perfect. No, no veil, Ariel said to my question. "Try one on, just for me," I urged her. Ohhh...! She was radiant! We all, INCLUDING the reluctant Ariel, loved the effect with the veil. Yes, the veil was a must-have.

We walked around the store, looking at other gowns. "Why don't you try this one?" I asked her, pointing out an exquisite Oleg Cassini creation.It had a heavily beaded bodice and full ballgown skirt, with layers upon layers of tulle. Ariel simply rolled her eyes. Okay, so she's not the fairytale type bride; but this dress would have been MY choice, if I were shopping for my own gown. I wanted to take it over to where Fred sat morosely by the dressing room door, but I couldn't even lift the heavy thing off the rack. Good thing, I guess: I stole a glimpse at the price tag: $1,050. Yikes.

Ariel picked out another gown, and then wandered over with Belle to look at bridesmaid dresses. "I'll wear anything except orange," Belle generously told us. She tried on dresses in burgundy, pale lime green, and one in what she called 'puke' green. I noted that her brown socks put an exquisite finishing touch to that one.

Ariel emerged from the dressing room once again. This was IT. This was the gown. It had the little off-the-shoulder sleeves that she wanted, a sweetheart neckline, an asymmetrical skirt, and enough beadwork and crystals to satisfy me. It was perfect. She stood on the pedestal, then walked the length of the store, stunning cloned Ariels walking along with her in the floor to ceiling mirrors. Even Fred rose from the chair where he had sat dejectedly for so long, and told her how beautiful she was. "How much is it?" he asked. It was on sale for $350. Fred realized that we were going to have to help her pay for this, as it was over the $200 she had budgeted for her gown. Ariel thought that maybe she could cut the price somewhat in other ways: she tried the dress without the fancy longline bridal bra. No good; we'd hafta have that bra. She didn't like the way the slip felt underneath, but the skirt and the train flowed so much better with the slip; we needed the slip. Fred: "I don't like it with that skirt." "Slip," I corrected him, "and it needs it." The tiara...was there a cheaper one? We looked at several, but the one Ariel had been wearing for hours really was perfect. I knew that we could get a cheaper one at Walmart, but I also knew it wouldn't be this pretty... "We'll just go ahead and get this one," I said. Was there a less expensive veil? Yes, there was, but this one was ideal, with these tiny crystals sprinkled here and there... The others were just so...plain. This was a once-in-a-lifetime affair, I reasoned: "Get the veil," I said. But the shoes, now that was one place we could save a few bucks. The David's Bridal shoes were stunning, but Ariel wanted something comfy and non-traditional on her feet; we were both thinking of the lace-covered tennis shoes that Steve Martin's daughter had worn in Father of the Bride. Ariel would get some funky little slippers somewhere else.

The seamstress appeared like magic and hustled Ariel into her alterations room in the back of the shop. The sleeves would have to be taken up just a bit, and a couple of tucks in the neckline would make it fit perfectly. The hem seemed to be fine, thank goodness, and she'd just sew a few bustles into the back, to keep the train from dragging the floor after the ceremony. Every time she marked that dress, Fred heard a little cash register: ka-ching, ka-ching. "Can't she just hold it up while she's dancing?" he asked. "No, the train's too long," I said. "I don't think we need that skirt," he tried again. "Slip," I said patiently, "and we DO need it."

Well, I guess it could have been worse. We bought a David's Bridal gown instead of the fabulous Oleg Cassini, and the gown was on sale, too. We got a 10% discount on the accessories. Ariel was buying her shoes at a plain old shoe store somewhere, so that would certainly save some money. I put the $1,032 on my credit card; Ariel would pay me back when the bill came in, I told Fred, but I want those reward points on my card. "That's fine, that's fine," he said, "but just how much is she gonna pay? Coz we've already gone way over $1500. Is she gonna pay half? I think she should pay at least half. Is she gonna pay half?"

Oh, Fred.

Wedding gown shopping had taken the better part of the day. We would meet again the next day at Calypso Cafe for lunch and our taste-testing. There was still SO much to do...

Next: Making the Most of Spring Break