spruced by marlene

James didn’t have much trouble getting a smile out of me for this picture. Wouldn’t you be smiling too, if you were wearing your new Marc by Marc Jacobs dress?

There’s a story behind this dress, of course.

So, my lovely friend Steffi is getting married this summer and with everything that’s gone into the planning, it will surely be The Wedding Of The Year™. So I knew that not just any dress would do. It had to be great. Originally, I wanted James to make me the dress, since he’d already made me a dress for a wedding I went to a couple of years ago (I’ll have to show you that dress soon. It’s spectacular). But this year he was too busy making clothes for other people. Which is great for James and his other customers. And not so great for James, because he had to listen to me while I looked for a replacement dress for three months (yes: three months. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to buy a dress for a wedding in which you’re the one getting married).

The conversation when I’d found yet another possible dress online went something like this.

Me: “What about this one?”
James: “It’s nice. I like the colour.”
Me: “But is it too orange?”
James: “What do you mean TOO orange. It’s orange.”
Me: “Might be a bit flashy.”
James: “The invite only says not to wear white, because the bride will. So I think orange will be okay.”
Me: “Okay. Or: Great?”
James: “Sure, whatever, great.”
Me: “You don’t like it!”
James: “I didn’t say that!”
Me (having moved on to a different online shop): “Oooohhhhh, but what about this one? It’s cute.”
James: “It’s… pink.”
Me: “But pink could be good! Although perhaps it’s too short. Maybe the dress should be long. Should the dress be long, darling?
James: “I don’t know.”
Me (going back to the first online shop): “I think it should be long. Like the orange dress. But I like the pink one better. Maybe. What do you think?”
James: (does not reply, as he has left the room)

In the end, I bought a dress from Asos. Which I promptly returned, because I found this dress on Sale at Mytheresa – not too long, not too short, not all orange and allround perfect. “Sale” at Mytheresa meaning I still blew the budget. I figured it was worth it. After all, I’m only going to Steffi’s wedding once in my life.

Now all I need is a tan. And to convince James that I’m not actually a lunatic.