June 24, 2010 Simple v. Fancy. Fancy wins!!!
True Story: I’m fancy.
When FH and I started dating, I recall saying to him on many occasions that I was a simple girl. “I like the simple pleasures of life,” which for me entailed good food, good drinks, and good conversation. I’ve long been an experience person; I’d rather spend money on a fabulous vacation than a fabulous new couch, and I’ve always been a fan of fine dining. For our first vacation together we went to Las Vegas (one of my favorite cities) and enjoyed the sights, sounds, and general craziness, all the while clipping strip coupons and eating 99 cent hotdogs and sandwiches in order to scrimp together enough money to have a $400 meal at Picasso at the Bellagio. And that meal was epic.
I love fine things. I thought this always meant that I had “good taste,” and that I knew the fine line between having fine taste and acquiring the goods of fine taste; but time and time again I’ve proven that the two go hand in hand. I’m in love with things of beauty: for instance, the overwhelming experience of entering the Bellagio lobby in Las Vegas convinced me of the value of spending a few hundreds extra per night to stay in one of their hotel rooms. And I can honestly say that this knowledge is from the experience– the experience of knowing that such a thing exists, and for me, once you know it’s out there, how can you possibly go back?
Yesterday, I went out alone into the world to look at some less expensive dresses. I thought that maybe shopping solo, paired with my need for a more, er…budget appropriate gown….would make me more receptive to a less expensive one. I walked into the store with hopes high and with oodles of ambition. I looked through everything and picked three lonely dresses to try on. None of them really fit what I was looking for (and ok, I was maybe looking for something that they didn’t have, I admit that) but in trying them on, I noticed with their thousand – or -more less price tag that they lost a lot of the luster, the quality, and the fine nature of the other dresses I had tried on before.
The truth of the matter was that even if I hadn’t liked a gown for its cut or fit the other day in shopping, there was not a single gown that lacked quality, precision in craftsmanship, or a pure beauty from being a fine and wonderful thing. The gowns from a less expensive lot were pretty, but the materials they were cut from were a little less than fabulous. The craftsmanship was not as precise and ornate. I didn’t like the way things felt in my hands. I tried on the dresses and felt, well….nothing. I didn’t even try to make myself think I liked them. I thanked the nice ladies at the store and walked out into the blinding sun with a realization that weighed too heavy in the pit of my stomach: while I may be a simple girl, I do not like simple things. I like fancy, expensive things.
I’ll be perfectly honest. In planning this wedding, I have realized that if I had an endless supply of money– like a fountain in my backyard that produced gold blocks– I’d totally have no problem spending it. I could spend money like water. I would justify purchases that other people would scoff at. I’d have a ridiculous wedding with lots of ridiculousness everywhere. I am not even going to lie about it. I’m not a budget bride– I’m just a bride on a budget. And that budget and I are mortal enemies. We prepare to fight for the death every day.
So. I guess that I ended up getting the answer I was looking for yesterday– that I am going to blow my dress budget on a stupid dress. But ohmygoodness, I love that stupid dress. I love it with a depth and breadth that rivals my love for the Bellagio lobby. Things of beauty– you are my weakness. I pride myself on thinking I’m a practical, sound person, but really— no, I’m not.
There you have it. Go ahead, make fun of me. I gladly take on the bride you’ll want to shake your head at and say “I can’t believe she spent XXXX on YYYY.” I am sure I’ll have lots and lots of those experiences for you to laugh and smirk at. And you know what– I’m totally going to be okay with it.
I say that now. I also once said I’d burn lace in a pyre of death but we see how true to my word I was on that.