Three black photo catalogues sat on the black coffee table and the three of us were sitting on a Zebra couch. It was 4:05
and we were five minutes late for our appointment in the haute couture salon, already crowded with patient brides-to-be and ringing phones. A couple of minutes later, a friendly employee approached us and looked at me with smiling eyes: "This is the 2005 catalogue,that''s the 2006 and that''s thel 2007. Check which one you like and keep the page folded". She handed us the catalogues and left for a while. None of us commented on the previous, however I could feel the three of us thinking about it... Ironically, this was the second time I escort Nadine to a Haute Couture salon, and for the second time I''m addressed as the bride-to-be... It didn''t piss me off, not at all... but when your job is to sell women
wedding dresses, the last you could do is notice tiny details such as which person is wearing the wedding ring and which one isn''t. It wasn''t till the second encounter that the lady
finally asked "sorry, but which one of you is the bride?". With an amused smile, I pointed out my sister. The traditional scenario repeated itself, where the bride-to-be disapears into a neighboring room, trying out the promising gowns while the rest of the party awaits patiently outside. And traditionally, the remaining couples in the room kept me company unwillingly. Today it wasn''t a loud bride, it was actually a loud family. One could spot the mother, both sisters, the bride, and... her husband-to-be! Why would a woman get her husband to pick her a wedding dress? Half the beauty fades out... that''s what I think. My sister was finally ready with her first dress so we joined her in the mirror room. I felt happier about it than the first time. How to explain it? I felt more open to suggestions and more peaceful with the place. Dress after dress after dress... opinions changed and we couldn''t seem to agree on a common one. Half an hour flew away. There was still one dress, one we all saw in a magazine... What are you waiting for? Bring it out! Two minutes later, the lady came carrying a dress, that was the whitest I''ve ever seen, with shwarovsky dots all over it. However, she seemed a bit disapointed. What''s wrong? we asked. It turned out that dress was only available in size 34, which definitely wouldn''t fit... Disapointment spread around the room and silence ruled for one full minute where no one knew what to do. And then so weirdly, all three pairs of eyes pointed me out as if the three remaining ladies in the room were virtually communicating a similar idea. All confused, I wasn''t getting it... till mom finally suggested "You try it Nicole". And before I could react to the suggestion, that lady helped me take off my brown dress and rolled down the white fabric. It was quick enough that I was still fixing my hair and adjusting my glasses when my mom and sis were weirdly smiling... What''s wrong? I had no idea why my mom was looking at me this way... I turned to that mirror at my right. It was me. In a wedding dress. It was me in a wedding dress that I never chose to wear, that I was weirdly pushing away while that lady was pulling it down. I just stared at myself, I never really pictured me in a wedding dress and there I was. I walked around with it, just for a little while... and so stupidly, they were all still smiling! I didn''t know why.... Starting to feel uncomfortable, I just said "Can you please help me out of it?", she nodded. Still smiling, she asked "It looks fantastic on you... We''ll wait for your turn". I didn''t know the meaning of the previous and wasn''t seeking to know. I just kept my mouth shut so that she would remove it faster. Finally I was breathing again. As my sister went out with her, mom looked at me "It''s not that nice, but it does look fantastic on you" I instantly replied "Keep that picture printed in your head as you won''t see ed as we were leaving the room.
It wasn''t till tonight while I was sitting on the backseat of my future brother-in-law''s Ford that it hit me, while we were on our way up to the mountains. It finally hit me, so clearly... It hit me. I am not affraid of commitment. I am not affraid of serious relationships. I do want to get married someday. I am not affraid of falling in love. What I worry about is falling for the wrong person and not the fall itself. For so long I have been attributed with the fear of commitment diagnosis and tonight I found out it''s wrong. And then during diner, I was asked the following question "Why don''t you go out with random guys? For the experience only..." and for the first time, I replied with the widest smile ever "Because random guys tire me. I have accumulated the needed experience in this matter and I know the characteristics I need to find in a guy". It was so visible that they didn''t agree with me. I didn''t mind. Few are those who agree genuinly without me argumenting eloquently. I didn''t feel like argumenting. I could live with them not agreeing. And here I am, typing today''s events. So ironically I wished I could have taken a pic just to show it to Lindsay. I always pictured her to be amazing in a wedding dress. Yet I tried one before her, so I''m hoping she''d envy that! A simple wedding gown that isn''t even my style and that doesn''t even fit me made me realize... I''m happy the way I am, even if I''m single... Sometimes being single beats being in meaningless relationships. I''m happy being me, phobia-free.
(07/25/07, 1:02 am- Lebanon)