The dilemma with my wedding dress

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My wedding dress and I – a mountain-and-valley ride that almost didn’t end in front of the altar but in court.

For mere mortals like me, the wedding dress is probably the most extravagant (and also the most expensive) robe I will ever wear in my life. Often, as I walked past a bridal shop, I imagined myself in one of these beautiful dresses – but what looked like me in the end and whether one of these dresses would really trigger a “This is my wedding dress” euphoria in me, I only knew on the day where I was really looking for – or rather – my wedding dress.

Let me anticipate this: With a dress, this incredibly beautiful feeling actually rose in me, even tears of joy rolled down. But the emotional cocktail of anger, fear and despair that stirred in me afterwards overshadowed a lot of positive things.

After the application, the wedding dress search is on

But let’s start from the beginning: My friend’s application came (for me very spontaneously) on a cloudy spring day at the Baltic Sea. In a very classic way, Moritz fell on his knees in front of me and asked in a shaky voice if I wanted to be his wife. Of course I said “yes” because Moritz is without a doubt the love of my life.

After I had become friends with the idea of ​​leaving Neverland for good and entering the port of marriage, I could hardly wait to visit a bridal shop and find my dress in which I walk in front of the altar will. Royal Wedding Dresses Bridal Wear (25651)

I take it as my fate that a few weeks before my application, a wedding dress shop opened in my hometown. My sister, who is also my maid of honor, my mom and I make an appointment with the young owner of the shop.

And that’s where it hangs: the dress in which I really feel like a bride.

I look proudly at myself from all sides in the mirror, turn around and see my mom and sister crying. I found it after almost two and a half hours and seven dresses tried on: MY wedding dress!

Despite supposed flaws: the wedding dress has been found

I beam at the saleswoman full of euphoria. “Great, Frau Kuch, then you’ve probably found your dress,” she says with a happy voice. “It’s not really going at the back, but the seamstress can fix that,” she winks at me. “Well,” I say, beaming with joy, “otherwise I’ll just take it in one size larger”. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have it there, but it is not a problem, she assures, that the dress can be stretched. “The dress won’t go over the threshold until it fits you,” she whistles.

There are certainly some who would have paid attention by now.

For me – a euphoric bride in Spe who wears the dress of her life – Leonardo Di Caprio could have entered the shop and I would not have noticed.

Let the seamstress adjust the dress. I don’t care, the main thing is that I found it and the saleswoman finally gave me her word. In short: I buy the dress that cannot be closed for a hefty sum and arrange a follow-up appointment in the store, in which the seamstress should also attend.

When the wedding dress just doesn’t want to fit properly

Four weeks later I am standing in front of the mirror again – in my dream dress I happily turn around my own axis until I finally stop with my back to the mirror and fold my forehead: the zipper only closes halfway.

The dressmaker tries hard to close the dress, I take in my breath and my back finally reminds me of a second cleavage.

“No problem, Ms. Kuch, the material is still giving way. If necessary, I’ll cut open the point on the side, stretch it and sew it back together.” Sounds painful, I think, but she will already have mastered her craft. Prominent wedding guests with style – the wedding looks of the stars

I can’t take a deep breath anyway, so I just nod. Then it should be shortened and my cleavage (the one from the front) set in scene with cups. Finally: The owner of the bridal shop loosens the high-tension zipper and I feel myself gasping for air. A few minutes later the seamstress disappears from the shop, my dress over her shoulder. I can finally pick it up in eight weeks. I notice a queasy feeling in my stomach.

Sewing another dress – is that even possible?

In the next few days this unpleasant feeling crept up in me a few times more often. Make a dress bigger? Is that possible? Sew a little closer, of course, I’ve heard that before. But widen? Well, I’ll see it soon. A phone call later, I was sitting on the sofa with a stomach ache.

“The wedding dress shop has gone bankrupt, the saleswoman has to give up her business,” my mom told me on the phone.

For me this means: There is no longer any guarantee that my dress will “fit over the threshold”. No matter what the seamstress does with my dress now, it’s my problem.

And so it was: the seamstress “didn’t dare to approach my dress”. And I want to get my consent again that she cut the tip open and widen it. She says uncertainly: “So you have to see how it looks then.” I beg your pardon? We’re not at the prototype here – that’s MY dress that I want to be in front of the altar in less than eight weeks. Ideally without patches, scars or a second cleavage including ventilation tent. After various other suggestions that sounded very painful and unrealistic, my mom finally pulled the rip cord. We leave the tiny studio immediately.

An insolvent bridal shop puts everything in a spin

In the end, tears welled up in my eyes in the car. Here I am, a few weeks before our wedding, with a dress that doesn’t fit. “We’ll exchange the dress, it won’t work that way,” I hear my mother say. She is already determinedly typing the shopkeeper’s number into her cell phone. She seems to have lost weight because my mother is already gushing and explaining our dilemma to her. “How? You have no other clothes?” I finally hear my mom say into the cell phone in a raised, almost shrill voice. “That you even sold us something like that is absolutely impossible”. No wonder it has to close, it flashes through my head. “This will have consequences”. Craziest Wedding Dress … Wedding Dresses (1143537)

The “aftermath” turns out to be a nerve-wracking affair for me and my family.

Even if only for a short time, I even consider suing the shopkeeper for damages.

Now leave the church in the village, I hear my inner voices say. Then just a bad Google rating, pah. But it finally dawns on me that she no longer really has anything to lose, a reputation or a reputation. We, however, do. In addition to time and money, also valuable nerves. You have to be realistic, I try to convince myself. Selling the dress unworn is out of the question for me. After all, I already fell in love with the dress and decided to fight for our relationship.

Between despair and rescue in need

After all, a tailor in Cologne who specializes only in wedding dresses is our last point of contact. It confirms what we already suspected:

Selling a dress that is too small is “bumbling”, she tells us.

The seamstress also used needles that were much too large to pin the dress, tearing small holes in the fabric. Furthermore, the dress was pegged off too short and the cups were attached the wrong way round, she notes with a critical eye. I am slowly realizing: If it had been up to the first seamstress, I would not only have two necklines, one at the front and one at the back, one of them would even be pushed from the inside out. Is that to be believed?

The emotional journey was worth it

Fortunately, there is a happy ending for me and my dress. The wedding dress seamstress moves the zipper down a good distance and neither the high-quality lace nor other parts of the dress have to be cut open or stretched. The dress can be closed and I can breathe again. But there must still be a catch? And how it is: When I see the bill, I hold it for a moment for the bill from the bridal dress shop.

The changes to the dress ultimately cost me as much as the dress itself.

but what should I say? For me it is still MY wedding dress. I would even say that the journey, or rather the emotional rollercoaster ride, drew a firm bond around us. It was worth fighting for. But one thing will definitely not happen to me again: Buying a dress that doesn’t fit me.


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