Ever since she was a little girl Amy O’Connor had had a vision in her head of the kind of dress she wanted to wear on her wedding day as she floated up the aisle on her dad’s arm and glided back down on her husband’s. She wanted a dress that would make her feel very special, and that was classic and pretty and feminine. A wedding dress that she would be proud to be photographed in and to be reminded of every day of her life, as she looked at the photo in a silver frame and her wedding album.
As a teenager she had covered reams of notebooks and drawing pads with silly sketches and doodles of ‘the dress’, but now that the time had actually come to buy it she was nervous and in a quandary. What if she got it wrong! Picked the wrong one!
‘That’s not going to happen,’ reassured Jess. ‘My sister Ava said she knew the minute she pulled on her dress in the fitting room that it was the right one. She said it was like magic, and that she didn’t even want to take it off or give it to the lady in the shop to have it altered and taken up, because she loved it so much.’
Amy had spent the past few weeks browsing the internet, looking at magazines, and scanning rails of dresses as she refined the search for the perfect wedding dress to a handful of bridal shops.
Her mum, and Jess, and a reluctant Ciara, had been roped in to join the search for the perfect wedding dress, and Amy had made appointments in four places.
‘You have to make an appointment to go and spend a fortune on a dress! It’s mad,’ said Ciara. ‘Bloody mad!’
Amy had to agree. She had always stupidly imagined that you could just walk into a bridal shop, try on a dress, fall in love with it and buy it there and then. She had never imagined that viewing dresses at these shops was by appointment only, and that even if you were having an early summer wedding many of them put you on a waiting list for a few weeks before they’d even see you. Anyhow, she had finally managed to get appointments that Saturday with four bridal specialists.
‘We’re going to four shops!’ protested Ciara. ‘What a waste of a Saturday!’
‘Ciara!’ warned their mother. ‘Choosing her wedding dress is very important for your sister. Honestly, you and Amy will always remember this day in the future.’
‘I’m sure I will.’ Ciara grimaced. ‘I could be asleep in bed or studying for my exams.’
‘The exams can wait this once,’ Helen O’Connor said. ‘They’re not for another few months, and if you are that concerned you can study tonight, instead of going out.’
‘Thanks, sis!’
‘Well, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ Jess laughed.
They started off in the inner sanctum of the most expensive store in Dublin, Brown Thomas, looking at the American designer Vera Wang’s selection of wedding gowns. They cost a fortune, but certainly had the ‘wow’ factor – and of course the ‘wow’ price. Amy picked out three she really liked and, at the insistence of the ultra chic ‘wedding advisor’, two more designs.
‘Everything will be made to your exact measurements, so don’t worry if a dress is too small or large or too long,’ the sales lady soothed.
Amy loved the traditional full Vera Wang design, and felt like she was stepping out of a film set as she spun around to show the others outside the fitting room.
‘Oh, Amy pet, you look so lovely.’ Helen O’Connor’s eyes filled with tears as she groped for a hankie in her bag, and tried to control her emotions. ‘Doesn’t she?’
‘Beautiful,’ agreed Jess.
‘Nice but a bit old-fashioned,’ said Ciara. ‘Bit too Disney-princess-looking!’
‘Ciara!’ warned Helen.
‘You asked me for my opinion, and I’m giving it,’ Amy’s sister retorted candidly.
Amy knew the one thing she could always depend on from Ciara was the truth, even if it was painful.
‘It’s a beautiful dress, and it really suits you, but I’m sure you want to try a few more,’ encouraged the sales lady as she helped Amy to change from one dress to another, lifting them over her head and carefully fastening the delicate buttons and bows.
Amy gasped when she saw the pale-cream fitted corset with its sparkle of crystals, and the soft flowing skirt that fell to the ground, showing off her figure and skin tone perfectly. She loved it!
So did all the others, and Amy was excited, thinking this could be it.
The next dress had a tiered skirt and a ruffle around a scoop neckline. The material was beautiful and it felt so comfortable as she looked at herself in the long mirrors from every angle. It was floaty and feminine, the kind of thing Dan would like.
‘No,’ Jess said. ‘It’s just not you, Amy!’
Then there was a satin sheath dress with a fishtail, that made her feel like a Hollywood star.
‘Great for a ball, but not for your wedding,’ said Helen.
‘This dress I have here is a very special one,’ said the sales assistant, producing the most amazing dress ever, which had a row of tie bows at the back of a fitted corset, and a beautiful classic swing skirt. ‘I think you should try it on.’
Amy stared at herself. What a dress! It was the kind of dress she had dreamed of. The line of the corset showed off her bust and shoulders perfectly, and the creamy white colour made her skin glow, and suited her light brown hair. She tried a simple veil with it, and felt like she could straight away walk out of the shop and down the aisle. It was exquisite.
Holding her breath, she stepped out of the fitting room, dying to see what the others thought about it.
‘Oh, Amy, I wish that your dad was here to see you in that dress.’ Her mum sniffed. ‘You look so beautiful.’
‘Oh, Amy, it’s gorgeous,’ Jess added, equally entranced.
‘Perfect,’ said Ciara.
It was perfect, the most perfect of all the dresses in the whole shop, but when Amy saw the price tag her face fell. No wonder the sales lady had brought it out with a flourish . . . it cost an absolute fortune, far more than she had planned to spend.
‘My God, this dress costs more than my car,’ spluttered Helen O’Connor, who drove around in an ancient green Volvo.
‘The dress is lovely.’ Jess sighed. ‘But it’s so pricey for just one day!’
‘That’s more than my student allowance for the whole year!’ Ciara gasped, stunned.
Reluctantly Amy slipped back into the fitting room and let the lady help her take it off.
‘If you are interested in this number, it takes over four months for us to have it made and sent here in time for your wedding,’ informed the assistant. ‘It is a beautiful dress, and on her wedding day a bride should wear the dress she wants!’
‘I do love it,’ Amy admitted. ‘But I need to think about it.’
‘Of course.’ The assistant smiled. ‘The dress is exquisite on you.’
Amy took the assistant’s card as she redressed, and left the fitting room with a final goodbye glance at her dream dress.
In the Bridal Design Centre at the top of Powerscourt House, the old Georgian Mansion, just off Grafton Street, Amy spent half an hour picking out dresses to try on. The one she liked the most was slightly similar to her dream dress, though the fit was not quite as good and it was in a different material, which had a slight sheen to it.
‘Oh, it’s lovely on you!’ they all chorused, admiring her. ‘Really lovely!’
Amy considered herself in the gilt-edged mirror. She wanted more than lovely, she wanted stunning! Beautiful! And this was not it!
There was a very fitted Empire-line dress with long sleeves and incredible beading; it was beautiful but not really her style. There was a backless pure white silk, but she couldn’t imagine walking up the aisle of the church in it.
Bored, Ciara was rooting around, looking at the collection of bridesmaid dresses that hung on one side of the shop.
‘Do I really have to wear something like this?’ she complained, holding up a wine-coloured floor-length dress with a big bow.
‘Definitely,’ teased Amy. ‘I love wine!’
Taking a break for coffee on Dawson Street, the four of them talked over what they had seen, Amy hoping that she would find a perfect dress that wouldn’t break her bank account.
Their next port of call was Alexis, the busy bridal studio overlooking Stephen’s Green, which was up about a mile of stairs and left them all panting as Amy disappeared to another fitting room to try on their selection.
Appearing in a swirl of lace, she gave a twirl.
‘Beautiful.’ Her mum beamed. ‘Amy, you look beautiful in that one.’
‘The problem is that you look lovely in every dress,’ declared Jess. ‘You are tall and slim and have a great figure and great skin so everything looks good on you. It makes it a lot harder to choose a perfect dress. The other girls trying dresses on look awful in some of them, but everything works on you. So we need to find something that is pretty amazing!’
The dresses were lovely, beautifully made, and were more realistic in price terms but there was nothing Amy fell in love with. She was beginning to get worried. No wonder brides went to London or Madrid or New York to get their dress. She had only one place left to go today.
Judith Deveraux, a new young bridal designer, was their final appointment. Her studio was in a basement in Merrion Square, and as they climbed down the stairs to her shop Amy noticed two other brides already busy trying clothes on.
The studio was small and there were only three fitting rooms. Judith, a small, petite redhead wearing a sage-green satin skirt and a black shirt, introduced herself and sat down with them for a few minutes to chat, passing them a portfolio of her designs.
‘These are from my latest collection, but often a bride will like a detail from one dress or the skirt from another. My job is to create what she wants.’ She smiled. ‘We have a range of samples of the designs here for clients to try on, and then when you find one that you like I can make it up to your exact requirements in whatever material, trim or length you decide.’
Amy was impressed, and, looking at a girl trying on a ballet length champagne-coloured wedding dress on the far side of the studio, itched to try on something herself.
Judith helped her pick out a few designs, each one totally different from the other.
Even as Amy put on the first dress she felt a quiver of excitement. As Judith guided it over her head and shoulders the soft satin material clung to her frame smoothly. The top was beautifully fitted and slightly boned, with a classic round neck, while the skirt fell softly from her waist with a tiny bow detail. It was absolutely stunning. Different from anything she had seen, it seemed to emphasize her dark eyes.
‘Audrey Hepburn was the inspiration for this.’ Judith grinned, as she slipped a crystal bow of pure white, with a small section of veil, on to Amy’s head.
Amy’s brown hair looked wonderful against the almost perfect white of the dress. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from behind the lush purple and cream curtains.
‘Oh!’ said her mum, her eyes welling up again.
‘Wow!’ said Ciara, suddenly paying attention. ‘You look amazing in that dress.’
‘Oh, Amy, you look so beautiful. It’s just you!’ Jess gasped.
Amy could see she was getting envious glances from the two other girls trying on.
‘Do you really like it?’ she begged, staring at herself in the mirror.
‘It’s just fabulous.’
‘You look like a film star.’
‘Dan will fall in love with you all over again when he sees you in that dress,’ insisted Jess.
Amy tried on three or more of Judith’s designs. A ballet-style one in a soft cream colour with a frill was stunning, and different, too, but it was the bow dress she kept thinking of, and longing to put back on again.
She had stolen a look at the price tag. It was expensive – but only half the price of the Vera Wang one!
‘Try it on again!’ urged Ciara.
Amy didn’t need much urging, and she slipped into the dress as if it was made for her. Silently, in the fitting room, she stared at herself, knowing that this was it. This was the dress she wanted more than anything.
‘Amy, you have to buy this one,’ her mum said as she stepped out. ‘It’s just made for you.’
‘It is truly perfect on you.’ Judith smiled, checking the dress and running her hands down over the fit of it. ‘I’d suggest maybe increasing the size of this bow a little and perhaps narrowing the shoulders, as they are a bit too wide. Also, if we lower this drop at the back a fraction it will have slightly more impact. The waist is perfect, and the dress itself looks so good on you.’
Ciara was biting her lip like she did when she was excited and going to cry, and Jess had a dreamy expression on her face.
‘It’s the one!’
‘Definitely.’
‘Amy, do you want this dress?’ asked her mum, suddenly serious.
Amy knew that there was no other dress in the world that she could get married in. ‘Yes,’ she nodded, ‘this is “the dress”.’
‘Then we’re buying it,’ said Helen O’Connor decisively.
The dress cost far more than Amy had planned to spend, and Judith refused to budge on the price, explaining that it was an original design, and that a huge amount of work would now go into making it. She couldn’t reduce the price of the dress, but agreed that she would throw in the headpiece as the two had been designed to go together.
Amy felt like hugging Judith, as she had budgeted separately for a veil and headpiece. She watched as Helen took out her credit card and insisted on paying,
‘Mum, are you sure about this? It’s so much money. I can pay for it myself.’
‘Your dad and I are paying for the wedding, and there would be no wedding without a dress!’ Helen laughed.
‘Thanks, Mum, you and Dad are the best!’ said Amy, hugging her.
‘Mum, do you think we could get Judith to make our bridesmaid dresses, too?’ Ciara asked. ‘I’m sure she could design something not too conventional for us.’
‘Do you want me to go bankrupt?’
‘I just thought it might save a bit of hassle and be kind of different.’
‘We are not discussing bridesmaid dresses today,’ said Helen O’Connor firmly. She had heard so many horror stories about the awful search to find bridesmaid dresses that she was dreading it.
‘Let’s have a bite of lunch to celebrate!’ suggested Amy, leading them up to The Unicorn on Merrion Row. She couldn’t believe it! She’d ordered her wedding dress. Amy had imagined it taking weeks or months to find the perfect one and couldn’t believe how simple it had been. Jill in work had gone to New York to get her dress, and Sarah had taken five months to find hers and been up and down the country like a yo-yo! Yet Amy’s had been hanging in Judith Deveraux’s just waiting for her. It was fate! It certainly deserved a celebration so they ordered some wine and the pasta house special.
‘To the beautiful bride!’ toasted her mum.
‘To the most stunning wedding dress ever!’ Jess grinned, clinking glasses with her.