Wedding Dress and Let Them Eat Cake
Warning: The first half of this post is a little emo. The second half is more light-hearted. Pick your poison.
It’s been more than six months since my breakup, more than four months since my unwedding day. There should be no more reminders that I almost got married, right? Wouldn’t you think everything should be wrapped up?
Hell to the no.
First of all, there is the wedding dress. My dream dress. It sits at my ex’s house, sad and lonely because no one is wearing it. Not that I want to wear it. While it’s my dream dress, I can’t imagine ever wearing it again. When I first tried it on (mom, sister and best friend in tow), I pictured myself marrying my ex fiancée. I thought about his reaction; I dreamed of the walk down the aisle to meet him. Those thoughts and emotions are directly connected to that dress, and I could never wear it with someone else.
Part of me feels sad for this beautiful dress, hanging miserably in a dark closet in a room in which no one goes. This poor dress has no woman to wear it on her special day, no mother to lovingly zip her into it and lovingly fasten all the buttons. There are no pictures to be taken of this dress, and it will never be passed on to someone’s daughter to wear on her wedding day (never mind that she has no interest in wearing it, because it is sooo 2010).
I’m currently in the process of helping my ex sell the dress. I offered to help him sell it for a few reasons. First, he offered to give me half of the money if I helped him sell it. Secondly, I’d like to help him get that dress out of his house. If it drives me crazy miles away, I can’t imagine how he feels with it in the very next room.
But mostly, I’ve offered to help him sell the dress because I want to be rid of it. I want – no, I need – someone else to own it. I want the dress to find closure. Yes, I know it’s an inanimate object. But I still want it to have closure, so that I can have closure. I imagine it hanging there, carefully packaged, maybe the outside bag getting a little dusty. It hangs there waiting for me to change my mind and go back to him. We could elope and I’d have a dress, a perfect dress. Just not a perfect marriage. Not even close.
Before you freak out, no, I’m not thinking of going back to him, but I’m not going to lie, that damn dress haunts me. Thanks goodness it’s not in my house; I can just imagine myself wearing it all the time. Vacuuming, plucking my eyebrows, watching TV, doing ab exercises on my ball. All in my fluffy white dress.
Awhile back, I put a bunch of ads online in an attempt to sell the dress. Just when I finally almost forget about the ivory taffeta beauty hanging in the guest room of my ex’s house, I get an e-mail.
“How off-white is your dress?”
“I have a really small budget, could you come down on price?”
“Can you measure the length of the dress? I’m really tall and I want to make sure it’ll fit.”
“Are you sure it’s never been worn? Why are you selling a brand new dress?”
These are the e-mails I get. And then the process starts. I text the relevant questions to my ex. He says he’s going to measure the dress, find a fabric swatch or double-check the size and get right back to me. And then he doesn’t reply for days. Then, I have to remind him to measure the damn dress. He still doesn’t reply. I get annoyed and a little pissed (this is the man who said he so much wanted me in his life, wanted to stay my friend, and here I am trying to help him sell the wedding dress and he can’t for the life of him reply). Eventually, after I get bitchy, he replies and apologizes, saying he’s been busy. I go back to the person who was interested in buying the dress with answers, and they proceed to tell me they are no longer interested. And then the process starts all over.
I’m starting to wonder if it’s worth the effort. Maybe I shouldn’t care so much if this dress finds a new owner. Maybe I’m using this dress as an excuse to have one last connection to my ex. Maybe, at the end of the day, it’s just a dress. Just fabric and buttons. Nothing special and certainly nothing to stress about.
And then, there’s the cake. I have a $300 deposit for a wedding cake at a local baker. Man, was I excited about that cake. I did not one, but two, tastings. Not because I’m picky or anything. But because at heart, I’m a fat girl, and cake makes me happy. Not as happy as ice cream does, but close.
First of all, I have to be honest. The deposit for the wedding cake is really my ex’s, considering he gave me back all the money I spent on the wedding. But it feels like it’s mine to use, somehow. And since the bakery won’t give me my money back (I have to spend it with them), I want to have some fun with it.
Readers, I need your help with this. I have to spend the cake deposit by the beginning of April 2011.
Here are some initial ideas:
- Give mini cakes (about $20 each) to my favorite people. Act like Oprah and scream, “You get a cake! And you get a cake! And you get a cake!”
- Throw a big ass birthday party for myself in January, complete with an overpriced cake – full of lots of swiss dots. (I love swiss dots. My ex hated them. So, we didn’t plan to have them on the wedding cake. Naturally my birthday cake should look like swiss dots threw up all over it.)
- Have a contest on the blog where I choose a handful of commenters and send them mini cakes (the only downfall with this one is I have to pay out-of-pocket for shipping).
- Give cakes to my favorite single friends, those who truly exemplify living Simply Solo.
- Do the honest and right thing and hand the deposit over to my ex. Which he’ll totally forget about and never use, like the day at the spa gift certificate I bought him in 2007 that he never used (the package included a massage, haircut and men’s manicure. It was awesome! Damn, I wish I could get that present back and use it on myself!).
What else could I do? Tell me in the comments what you think about these ideas and any others you may have!
And, does anyone want to buy a dress??