I love thrift stores. I am not the best shopper. I love
old things. Not just old but reused. I secretly think that I am playing some kind
of role in the particular items life, and that makes me happy. I honestly do believe
that my thrift shop item(s) has a story to tell, and I want to be a part of it.
I know people who read this is will be like "weirdo" but just take a
moment and think of something you have, something special to you. Now imagine
it telling a story. Okay.. so maybe some of you won't be able to do that, but let
me tell you about my favorite recent thrift item, whose life it has changed,
and how I get to be part of its big story.
A girl grows up dreaming about One Big Day: Her Wedding
Day. She will spend most of her early life, planning her wedding, and dreaming
about prince charming but most importantly she’ll have in her mind what she
wants to be wearing that day: Her Wedding Dress. The wedding dress- the most important dress a girl will ever
buy! I don't mean that lightly!
Girls will spend two-three times as much as they bring in a month; just to be
able to purchase the Dress of their dreams.
It is not just the WOW
factor of how one will look in her perfect dress, whether it is modern chic or
vintage classic. It is the way she feels in the gown, the way she has always
imagined it to feel, as she carefully slip into the layers of finely pressed
fabric, and gracefully comes out of the dressing room for all to see. The
feeling you find after maybe just one dress, or after trying on hundreds, it
shows on your face that the current dress you have just slipped into is Your
Wedding dress.
My story starts on a crisp Friday afternoon, while
spending time running around town with my grandma. We had made the decision to
stop at a thrift store that we had not ventured into. I recently engaged, had already
decided I would not be spending any time at those high class fancy bridal
stores, I was going to stay true to my heart, and find my dream gown in a thrift
store.
I excited to be on the lookout for my wedding treasure,
had already spotted a few manikins in the window display dressed in what
appeared to be a girl in a wedding dress and a man in a suit. Once in the store
I was pleased that I was right, because the dress on the manikin was exactly
what I had decided at that moment in time to be MY WEDDING DRESS.
I cannot remember the exact conversation, but what I do
know is that I did turn to look at my grandma and said “That is my Dress”.
Gently helping the lady behind the counter pull the
beautiful lace vintage perfect gown off the manikin, I could not help but day
dream about how beautiful I was going to look on my wedding day. I was already on
cloud 9 as I carefully hulled the “big” perfect wedding gown back to the little
fitting room. Trying to be very carefully, in a not very well lite, very tiny
fitting room, Slipped into what I knew was my wedding gown! Placing each arm
into the lace sleeves and carefully trying to reach around to the zipper, my
heart sank and my stomach turned, was it to small? Was I too big for the Dress?
How was that possible? I opened the door to the fitting room, giving myself and
the dress a little more breathing room. I called for my grandma's assistant.
Grandma came over and observed with a not so hopeful
look on her face. I assured her that it was my dress and I already had in mind who
was going to fix it. Grandma not so sure it could be done refused to let me
spend the 25 dollars till I had my mother’s approval. Nervous about leaving the
dress for another girl to come and steal, I helped the lady behind the counter
place it back on the manikin, promising her I would be back later that day,
with my mother to pick up MY dress. As we drove away from what I knew was going
to be MY wedding dress, Grandma reminded me that it was not very often a girl
choose to shop for their dress at a thrift store and she assured me it would
still be there that night.
The hour it took for mom to get home from work, seemed
to take forever, as I eagerly waited to take her to see my treasure. Finally
with her home, we jumped in the car, without grandma this time, and went to get
my dress, which I prayed was still on the manikin as I had left it early that
day.
As we pulled our car into the thrift stores parking
lot, I was over joyed that my beautiful dress was still on the girl manikin. Back
on cloud 9 I walked into the store politely asking the lady to remove the wedding
gown from the manikin and hulled it back to the tiny, poorly lite dressing
room. I carefully tried to fit into the small waisted gown. The same results as
earlier in the day, I opened the fitting room door to show my mother.
This is my dress, I stated. It is not wonderful?
Mother looking over the dress, said “if that’s your
dress, then that’s your dress” and “I have confidence that Anna can fix it”
Content I slipped back into the fitting room, and
pulled the dress off, satisfied that my search for the perfect gown was
complete, and that I knew I would be absolutely beautiful in it.
Fast forwarding a few Months, I am happy to say that I
had my second dress fitting this afternoon and my dress is as I could ever
imagine perfect in every way! Anna is doing a beautiful job in restoring what I
learn was an original Union made dress dated from the 1950s. The dress has no
blemishes. It is perfect just like a wedding gown should be. I get a happy
heart as I imagine a beautiful girl slipping into the same dress 60 years ago,
praying that if she is still alive, she is still happily married, and praying that
God blesses her for the gift she has given to me without even knowing it.
Sunshine Girl in Red
P.S. Feel free to leave me a comment about your Wedding Dress!
