Before my wedding, I knew that I was going to sell my wedding dress after the wedding.  After all, it was a $125 dress from China- made to fit but then altered again in the States for the same amount again.  Add a $20 petticoat from craigslist and that’s why I didn’t feel bad dragging it through the sand the day of the wedding.  But my attachment to the dress began after the wedding.  It had been hanging, covered by a large white garment bag that still left the train hanging out from underneath, for months waiting for our much belated trash-the-dress session.  Then, a friend who was getting married asked me if they could maybe buy the dress and his fiancée came over to try it on.  Seeing it on another woman created in me a feeling of envy and possessiveness that I thought I would never feel about a garment.  She decided not to buy it.  I was glad.

I wavered on whether or not I’d sell the dress even until after the trash session- I was standing at the dry cleaner’s counter with sopping chlorine-y dress in hand, debating if I was willing to pay $50 to clean my $245 investment. Nah.  I rinsed it a few times in a friend’s tub and called it a day.  It ended up surprisingly clean!  And smelled fresh too.

It hung drying off the curtain railing for a few days before I took it down and folded it up nicely.  I had been looking at preserving my dress online- it would cost me about $50 to get a kit with acid-free tissue paper and an acid-free box to store the dress in.  But $50?  For what purpose?

As a kid, my mom’s wedding dress lived in a bag within my closet, and I would take it out time and again to try it on.  When I was eleven years old, the dress’s waist sat on my hips.  I’d put the veil on my head and stand on top of my bed in front of the mirror to see how it looked.  But when it came time for me to get married, I would have never dreamed of wearing my mother’s dress; I’m sure that any daughter of mine will feel the same.  And were we really going to move the dress to Utah?

So I posted the dress on craigslist, thinking that hey- maybe nobody will want it and I’ll get to keep it.  A few days passed, and I had no replies- and then a girl emailed me asking that I keep it for her to pick up in 2 weeks.  I agreed.  After all, if it fell through, I would get to keep the dress.  Alas, she came over today and has just left with the dress.  Meeting her was one of the weirder circumstances I’ve ever been in- she was almost exactly my height and build- her breasts, her waist, her hips were all in the same places- maybe a little larger in the bust and hips, but standing in front of her I felt like we were twins.  So she will be walking down the aisle in July in what used to be my wedding dress, and I am left here feeling a little sad and empty.  I know that the feeling will pass and I will forget that I don’t have my wedding dress hidden away under a bed (–maybe better than forgetting that I do have my wedding dress hidden under a bed). But right now I’m sad that my beautiful cheap white dress is gone… and all I have left are photos and memories.  (And shoes.  Kept those!)

A

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