An Open Letter to my Wedding Dress

Dear wedding dress,

Or should that read "Wedding Dress?" Because you are supposedly all-important and the single most significant and meaningful article of clothing I will ever own.

Whatever.

You're just a dress, albeit one I will wear on a day that is significant and meaningful, but a dress all the same. You may be fancy and expensive, but that doesn't give you the right to send me into a panic over things like shoes and underwear and alterations. After all, I'm only going to wear you once and hide you in a box until... I don't know. What do people do with their wedding dresses after the wedding besides store them in the closet?

Wedding Dress, you are kind of a bully. After all, you are dictating my wedding day hairstyle. Who even does that? You're so petty sometimes.

I know you feel special and entitled because I chose you, but that doesn't give you free reign to send me into a panic over not fitting into you. Or give me nightmares about you somehow becoming ripped or dirtied on "our" big day.

Wedding Dress, here's the thing: you are nothing but an accessory. Your only purpose is to cover me up. Just like regular clothes. You don't have any magical powers or special abilities. You think you're so cool because you get to play a big role in my wedding pictures and society tells me to love you so much that I should preserve you and keep you forever. Just like "Psycho." That's messed up. You're just a dress.

So here's the deal, Dress. Stop bothering me for the next month, and I promise I'll take good care of you on October 8. I'll let you be the center of attention in our professional pictures (except for when the rings get their turn), and I'll even take you to be mummified or whatever so that you can stay young and pretty forever, although forgotten and ignored in the back of my closet.

I think this is a fair deal. And since you can't talk I have no choice but to assume you agree with these terms. I'm glad we've finally settled this.

Sincerely,
Kristy