Tuesday, December 2, 2008
The Vera Wang Luxe Audrey is not my dress, but she haunted me during dress-shopping. The photos simply do not do this dress justice - she's absolutely stunning, a true work of art. I could barely touch her, she was so perfect, and I didn't dare try her on. The dress wouldn't have suited me or our wedding - and its price tag was certainly a caution flag - but none of that mattered when I looked at her. Audrey somehow represented all the things I was not in that store, but not in a scary please-stare-at-me-satin-ball-gown-with-crystal-and-silver-embellishment Kenneth Pool way. Nope, the Audrey is my kind of girl, only infinitely more put-together and perfect. In all those intricate folds of lace around her skirt, she swishes around with the kind of quiet confidence I admire, and the serenity to be all girl on that most girly of days. The Audrey is me times ten, and as I sit here typing in cords and a comfy J. Crew cardigan, I can say confidently that she is Not My Dress. But oh, what a dress she is.
Labels: not my dress