Second Negative

The White Dress

This entry is part of an occasional series of articles written by Nicole, lover of kids, cats, old people…and me. Follow her complete adventures in the Girl, Interrupted category.

I’ve spent a lot of time imagining my wedding day. Various details have changed, the groom for instance. I no longer envision tying the knot with Leonardo DiCaprio circa “Romeo & Juliet”. However, the one constant has always been my dress, my beautiful white dress. Recently I have seen some very pretty pale gold gowns, and there is always ivory; but I love the fresh, pristine glow of a bride blanketed in white.

Now I know some people, whose God given names shall not be repeated. Let’s call them Betty and Jane and Patty. Last week Betty and Jane were talking about Myrtle, an older friend’s upcoming wedding and her decision to wear an off-white gown. Myrtle didn’t choose off-white because of age or her uncanny fashion sense. She chose it because she was already living with her future husband, Fred.

And then there is Patty, who lived with her husband before saying “I do”, and chose a simple white number. Patty had no problem wearing white, but frowned upon her cousin Ginger’s milky selection because Ginger had baby Gina before she and Johnny took their vows.

They’re all nuts. Betty and Jane and Patty are nuts. Traditions are wonderful but some things are just antiquated. As much as Betty and Jane would like me to believe that only pure, virginal, untouched brides are permitted to wear white, I’m not buying into it. If we are following those rules than Jane is short a dowry. Luckily we’re not, so Patty should be ashamed for judging Ginger and I should wear white, white Monique L’Huillier. All I need is for someone, let’s call him Greg, to pop the question. Hmm…