Looking for The One

“You have to get down here,” I wailed to Mum in a panic.
It was a wedding dress sale.
Girls were dashing from one end of the room to the other, hoisting up white dresses and dragging trains behind them.
Mums were gathering gowns off the rack by the dozen and throwing them at their daughters.
Sisters and friends of the brides were baggsing shoe boxes and trying on veils.
I’d left my mum at home with Li’l Fatty, who was fighting a cold and sound asleep in his cot.
I called Learner Dad, suggesting he abandon the state cricket team’s press call to go home and watch our son while we shopped.
Out of luck, I dashed home, hoisted my baby out of bed and dragged he and his Nanna back down there.
Mum rolled up her sleeves as we walked in and began pulling dresses off the rack for me to try on.
After the first few, I felt guilty.
I’d clearly brought my sick bub out on a wasted mission.
As I looked despairingly at my reflection, which had me in a crocheted mermaid dress that did nothing for my waist, the lady running the sale came in.
“Hmmmm not you at all is it?” she asked, frowning.
“I have just the thing.”
She came back with not one, but two things.
“This might be it,” I whispered to Mum as the first dress and I embraced each other like long lost lovers.
White and sparkly (I’m no fashion connoisseur so that’s the best description you’ll get), it was a perfect fit.
“Are you going to bother with the other one?” Mum asked.
“Might as well,” I shrugged.
I’d only just embarked on my dress mission and I wasn’t ready to give up the fun of trying them on so soon.
“Uh oh,” I said, looking at Mum.
It was a completely different version of perfection (it seems wedding dresses have a knack of doing that).
This one was original, classic, memorable.
But it was also more elaborate than anything I’d imagined.
“People will keep seeing things they like about that dress as the night goes on,” Mum said, clearly a fan.
I called a bridesmaid in for help.
“I sometimes wish I’d gone bigger,” she said helpfully.
That and the tears in her eyes brought me closer.
I gazed at myself in the mirror.
‘White sparkly’ had now faded into the background.
But was this definitely The One?
I was a bit confused.
It wasn’t meant to be this easy.
It wasn’t meant to be this cheap.
It wasn’t even meant to be this colour.
I waited for that definitive ‘this is it’ feeling to wash over me.
But it didn’t.
It kept getting interrupted by ripples of uncertainty.
Was that because I’m not a whimsical person?
Or was it because I’m incredibly indecisive?
What if it was because it wasn’t The One?
Regardless I knew I wouldn’t find this dress again and so took it home for a ridiculously low price.
As for whether or not it’ll get a run on my big day…?
Well, I still have a year to decide.


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