“I don’t understand sweetie. You look amazing.” Georgia looked at the camera and shrugged.
“This is not Bridezillas, so I won’t go there. I just want to have a little fun with my mom.” My dressing room buddies seemed to like the idea and waved Georgia off. I’m sure they assumed it would be good for ratings, but that was the least of my concerns.
When Georgia returned, I was surprised to see the number of hideous dresses she had in her arms, each uglier than the next. I slipped on the first, and laughed out loud. It was a pale cream color that resembled ring around the collar. Although the skirt was billowy, per my mother’s request, it was a good three inches above my knees. I couldn’t wait to see the reaction of my mom. Georgia kept fanning herself and paced around the dressing room. Her perky smile and excitement had turned into fear of loosing her job or worse…upsetting the mother of the bride. I leaned in close and whispered in her ear. She clapped and smiled and said “Ooo, you’re trouble girl.”
The appalled look on my mother’s face was exactly what I was going for. For the first time in her life, she was speechless….and I’d venture to say a bit nauseous. Her arms grasped her mid section and she hunched over a bit until she remembered the cameras. “Oh, Katie.” She forced a smile “You look…ahh..you look beautiful, let's see what the next dress has to offer though dear. No need to buy the first one you try on.”
As the cameras and their entourage followed me back to the fitting room, I heard my mom call to Georgia. “That was awful! Have her try on the one I chose.” She whispered.
“She won’t ma’am. I’ve tried. Best to let her have a go until she finds something she likes.” Georgia winked at the camera and caught up with me.
I chose to alternate trying on decent dresses with the ugly ones for good sport. Each time, mother politely complimented me and made more specific suggestions. When her patience was just about tapped, I walked out in a form fitting Vera Wang. No billowing skirt, no bling. It was the exact dress I had ripped from a magazine earlier in the week. Mom gasped and clapped. “It’s beautiful! Say yes to the dress! Say it!” I had broken her. Mission accomplished.
“Well?” Georgia asked with anticipation.
“I’d like to keep looking Mom. I’m not ready to commit.” I lied. Mom looked at the cameras baffled. On a show called “Say YES to the Dress” what do you do when the bride-to-be says no?
Back in the dressing room, I carefully handed Georgia the gown my mother had chosen and whispered careful instructions.