Oh yes. This happened.
Somehow we’d ended up at Bergdorf Goodman’s trying on $9,000 wedding dresses. I’m wearing a t-shirt while the women of society mill around in the latest and the greatest name brand designers. Don’t get me wrong; I can hold my own after working at Bloomies for a year. But as the sales associate asked my friend to slip into the newest Vera Wang, I tried to remember how we’d gotten here…
I think it had something to do with a pervious Friday night. Didn’t someone grab my phone; make a bridal appointment, and say, “You’re going to Bergdorf’s Clare! You deserve it!”
Yes. That someone can remain anonymous if they so choose. But here we were, on a beautiful New York Saturday, simply enjoying our time together at the height of 5th Avenue couture. I guess there’s nothing simple about Bergdorf’s, but it felt easy enough.
And it didn’t matter that we couldn’t even afford a veil.
And it didn’t matter that the “cheaper” dress would still have been 5 months of my current rent.
No, our biggest concerns were what we’d wear to a "Zenon party" in Brooklyn that night (You buy the tin foil for our costumes, or me?) and if we had homework due on Sunday.
As my ol’ friend Notorious B.I.G. once said: “Mo’ money, mo’ problems.”
That's more like it.