So tonite I went for my first alterations fitting. I was already nervous about it because:
A) I was a little scared about the person I had lined up to do it. It was a family tailor that my parents use– mostly my dad. He said he could do wedding dresses.
B) When I tried the dress on at my parents on Saturday, it was a little snug, and it wasn’t in great light, so I wasn’t feeling great about myself.
C) It’s my WEDDING DRESS, PEOPLE! I am so nervous in general about getting it altered- PERIOD.
So we get to the alterations place, and the guy is off in the corner yakking on the phone. Which he continues to do for THIRTY MINUTES. So rude. Then he comes out of his cubicle and I am hit with the smell of dirty cologne. Like the stuff my Italian great uncles used to wear. Creepy. We open the dress bag and he’s like, “Very pretty dress.” I’m thinking to myself– that’s it? This is a LAZARO. He clearly has no taste and no understanding of designer wedding dresses: RED FLAG.
So I get into the dress and the only good thing that happened– it fit so much better than it even did on Saturday! So something I am doing must be working.
Anyways, he starts critiquing it and saying “well I just don’t think that part can be fixed” and “I dont think there’s anything ANYONE can do about THAT” OH MY GOD! Imagine my utter shock and disappointment. First of all– it doesn’t even need to be hemmed. Check one, please. All that needs to be fixed is the “sleeves” — that’s it! And he was flipping out. I just kept looking down, keeping my lips tight so that I didn’t let out a snappy remark. I was actually quite proud of myself for the way I handled it, considering I could have easily been just as rude to him as he was being to me.
So I get back to the fitting room and I turn around and my mom is there and she mouths to me “it will be OK” — I get out of the dress, I pack it up, put my clothes back on and leave the dressing room. He is still talking to my mom: “I just don’t know how that can be fixed” blah Blah BLAH! I just looked at the floor the entire time. Luckily for my mom and I, my dad called her cell phone as we were standing there and we were like OK gotta go–see ya– and walked out. My mom is talking to my dad telling him it did not go well, I am laying the huge dress bag on the back seat of the car and my mom looks at me– I mouth to her “we’re never coming back here!”
And then… I just started crying. I could not help myself. It was just so natural and I just couldn’t stop. I was so surprised that something like that made me cry so much, but it just felt right. The guy was a creep, he was a total jerk to me and my mom, and he clearly wanted nothing to do with my beautiful designer wedding gown. How DARE he act as if he knows anything about alterations and then not even know what Lazaro is? Give me a break.
My mom was really great about it and calmed me down. My dad sent me supportive text messages that said “Les- don’t worry about it– we will find an alterations person that will Say Yes to the Dress”– haha. As soon as I got back to my parents house, I made an appointment at a place that was recommended to me by our wedding planner and also a handful of friends. So I am going there on Monday🙂 I’ll definitely let you know what happens!!