A professed fashionista, I’m obsessed with clothes: from the extravagant and oft impossible looks of the runway to the simple act of creating a garment – which of course has led to an unabashed adoration of Project Runway – I love it all. The thing is, I’m not actually a clotheshorse. It’s more of a fascination with color, texture and the concept of fashion as a form of pop culture.Thus it was with happy contentment that I slept in on Black Friday, bypassing the ample sales of the big shopping holiday. Let’s face it: cashmere, smashmere – 20 percent off is not worth a 4 a.m. wake up call and a swath of scrambling, misbehaved savers.
So imagine my chagrin when my close friend suggested shopping at the mall the next (and assuredly busy) day. Actually, I should clarify. This was not just shopping, but bridesmaid dress shopping. As I began to whine about parking and long lines, I caught myself. I had broken the cardinal sin of being a bridesmaid: Do what the bride wants. After all, this was an order, not a suggestion.
I reminded myself that I should be particularly grateful, as she had opted away from bridal stores, replete with their starchy taffeta and candy colors, and decided to go with gowns from a “normal” store.
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