Guest Post: Rich's perspective on THE dress

Below is my husband's guest post which he volunteered to write about his perspective on my dress. Completely unedited by me.  I expected it to be filled with musings on the cranky mood I'd get in each time it was a dress shopping (or fitting) day.  Or how he learned what ruching is.  Or how he diligently set the DVR to record countless dress shows.  Just generally a lot of good-natured poking fun at me.  But he went an entirely different way. No photos necessary on this one.  Tissues may be, though (they were for me!). 

I'm a very lucky gal:

I suppose every couple is slightly different in how they plan a wedding. Some grooms are assigned a few day-of-the-event tasks by their bride, some just have to show up. From the beginning Kate and I agreed we didn't want that. I felt like planning the event was just as much my responsibility as hers. So we shared responsibility for some tasks (venue selection, rentals, catering). For others, one of us in charge of the things we do best. My wife's style and crafting ability is well documented on this blog so the big decisions of color and decoration were hers. I make my living as a designer so all printed material was up to me. But even when one of us was assigned the lead on a task, the other was right there offering feedback. Our wedding was definitely a partnership.

 

Except for one thing. The dress. Wait, I said that wrong. THE dress. Ladies, after months of coordinating and agreeing on everything else, you should know that it's a bit of an odd experience to be cut out of a major event. It's especially odd because we didn't make a habit of sharing things like fork selection or early invitation concepts with our friends. Meanwhile, as a groom you get the sense that dress pictures are swirling around as her mother, my mother, heck my father, her friends, and all of the women between ages 15 and 50 in the DC metropolitan area see pictures of your bride in various dresses. It was a struggle for my personality to decide which way to run with it. On the one hand I'm innately curious (nosy) and resourceful (sneaky) and I've never liked missing out on anything. On the other hand the various dress selection expeditions looked stressful and packed full of much trying on and commenting—not my favorite task. And for once I had a valid excuse to miss it completely.

 

Only now, two and a half months after the wedding I'm just beginning to understand why getting the right dress was so important to Kate. The entire time she had to worry about how she'd feel it in, and what other women would think about it. But mostly, she was worried that I'd like it. And that blows my mind. I guess she wasn't in my head when I turned around on the beach and saw her for the first time, and the thought that ran through my head was I had to be in the wrong place because there was no way this beautiful creature wanted to marry me. And she must have somehow missed the epic struggle I had holding myself together as she walked down the aisle. Her dress was simply perfect. It was a little vintage for her love of her family and where she comes from. It was a little sleek because she is, and always will be, a Manhattan girl. It was little understated because when you're smart you know it and don't need to show off. And it was elegant. Because that's who Kate is. And I'm the lucky guy who got to marry her.