In 2002, I was planning a wedding and looking for the perfect dress. I went to all the main places in Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens. I finally found one I loved at a wonderful boutique shop, but the price was … high. Very high. Like $3K high. My very generous parents were covering the wedding and told me not to worry about it, they were happy to be able to pay for it. But it felt so gross to pay such so much for a dress to wear for one day.

So, I kept looking. I met with a dress maker and corresponded with another seamstress to see if they could make something similar. I felt embarrassed and silly but my mind kept coming back to that dress. I really did love it. My parents continued to insist that I just get it, but I felt extremely anxious about the whole thing. Who knows how many hours I spent hand-wringing about it. I finally rationalized the purchase deciding that I would sell it through eBay or consignment after the wedding and at least be able to reimburse some of the funds to my parents.

When all was said and done, the dress cost over $4K. I still felt bad, but went ahead. I loved the dress and am so happy I got to enjoy it for that day.

After the wedding, we went on our honeymoon for nearly 3 weeks. When we stopped by my parents’ place for a night on our way back to New York, after catching up on our trip, my mom got a tragic look on her face and told me she had some bad news.

Mom had taken the dress to a bridal specialist cleaner to do a professional cleaning and storage set up while we were away. When she called to see when she could come pick it up, they kept putting her off. Finally she just went in and asked to see it. They acted all weird and mortified but finally brought out the dress. The dress looked like it had been attacked by Cinderella’s stepsisters, run over by some monster trucks, and used to clean a few public bathrooms. It was bad. No one knew what had happened.

Mom was furious on my behalf. My new husband was so upset that I wouldn’t get to wear it again for more photos (dude, once was enough). But I was THRILLED. The cleaners were insured, and I had saved every receipt. We were able to submit them and my parents got back every dime. And I got to enjoy a dress I loved.

I just love how things work out like that sometimes, don’t you? It’s like it’s all being handled.

The dress designer was Peter Langer. I’d never heard of him before, but I still think his stuff is gorgeous. Someday, I’ll have him design all of my gowns.