I have a guest post from Madam Bipolar today. If you are not already following her blog, you should. She writes amazingly.
It was love at first sight.
I had to have the dress.
It would be my wedding dress.
The dress. The One.
I had been thinking about her since I was five years old.
One day, I took Leah to see the dress and she cried tears of joy. My friends Mon and Kayte loved it, too.
This dress was the first one I had tried on, so you could say it was love at first sight.
It was a long, beaded sheath in the most elegant shade of white. The beads picked up the light and were perfect for a dusk wedding in March.
I still have a sample of the beads in a photo album at home. They are still perfect.
I bought the dress on my lunchbreak, by myself, just weeks after we became engaged.
It was duly placed on lay-buy and I made regular payments towards my dream.
As perfect as it was there was just one thing missing, a wrap for my arms because it gets cold in March.
I found the perfect item in, of all places, a hippie store in Byron Bay.
Paid for, wrapped and bagged, it was all mine.
Three months before my wedding I had the outfit ready to go. It hung in a one-of-a-kind garment bag and was the subject of much oohing and ahhing.
I would often sneak inside my wardrobe and have a peak. She was beyond beautiful and the wrap was her perfect match.
Even though the dress is almost 10 years old, I still long for her.
She now belongs to another.
I sent it to America to Brides Against Breast Cancer, an organisation which resells wedding gowns to raise money for breast cancer.
In 2004, I packed the dress up lovingly to be prepared for its new home. This dress and I had been on one long ride together.
I still love her, even though I never wore her.
While the dress fit, the groom did not.
She never got out of her garment bag.
If you would like an update on Madam Bipolar's love life and marriage state, just go here:
I am enough for him
Living with and supporting others with bipolar disorder. Bipolar resources and bipolar advocacy.