I survived, as the t-shirt says.1 I did not buy a dress at the Running of the Brides, but I had a wonderful time, and I came to the realization that The Dress back in Pittsburgh had ruined me for all other dresses, so when I got back home I went ahead and bought it. So the RotB was a valuable experience, and I’m so glad I went.
One thing I love about this sale, and a reason I’d recommend it to anyone shopping for a wedding dress, is that you can try on a LOT of dresses. When I went to bridal salons I told them I wanted a slimmer silhouette, so they only brought out those dresses. Here, I could try on a a floufy gigantic dress, be reminded of why I don’t want one of those, jump out of it and into something else entirely. And it isn’t like you run out of appointment time.
I tried on a lot of dresses. Let me capitalize that for emphasis: A LOT OF DRESSES. I focused on the unusual. The group stationed next to ours commented on my ability to find “all the weird ones.” Some dresses were weird weird. Some dresses were AWESOME weird. Observe:

I was in love with this dress. I just didn’t want to wear it to my wedding. If I were having one of those daytime weddings in a park with “rustic festive” details, I would have bought this dress and skipped out of the store. Well, maybe I would have had a little pause because I think A-line skirts obliterate my figure (and people are always saying they’re universally flattering). Anyway, I didn’t want to buy this dress. But I wanted to find it a good home. I walked around the store in it, and other women kept saying, “What a cool dress!?” And I’d say, “Do you want to try it on?” They’d immediately say, “It’s not for me.” And I’d sigh, “It’s not for me either. But someone NEEDS to buy this dress.” Eventually, some girl tracked me down, saying she had seen me in the dress across the store and wanted to try it. I stripped down pretty much immediately. She kept thanking me profusely, and I was like, “No, thank YOU!” She tried it on and it looked gorgeous on her, and the pink and green beading match her wedding colors, and while she didn’t immediately go buy it and was still undecided when we left, in my imagination she bought that dress and will think of me fondly when she gets dressed on her wedding day.

This was another dress I thought was gorgeous but wrong for me. I can’t commit to the color red like that. If the swoopy gauzy part was gold or some color along those lines? If the skirt were more fitted? If the dress weren’t way too big on me? I would have been all over it. But the RotB is not a place for if-onlys.
Ok, let’s move on to gawking at the weird weird dresses:

Note: when this picture was taken, I was cheering for someone who just found her dress.
I believe this dress was made for a woman who grew up imagining she’d wear her mother’s wedding dress, but upon her engagement discovered to her dismay it had been thrown out during the last move/eaten by moths/destroyed in a fire/altered into non-recognition by a selfish little sister who just happens to be marrying the guy she’s in love with/never existed. Or maybe it actually is from the 1970s, and some Filene’s buyer found it under a pile of dust in a warehouse somewhere.

This is incredibly unflattering nightie is a steal at the sale price of $700! If I wanted to convincingly make one of my boobs look much smaller than the other and create a faux “baby bump” with prosthetics, I’d easily spend twice that much! In addition to being a convincing disguise, this sleepwear can also be worn at your wedding. For the bride who wants that just-rolled-out-of-bed look at the altar! (I was attempting to look like I just woke up in that photo, but I think I look more like I hate you. Which might be true when I have just woken up. I can be kind of a bitch before I have my coffee.)

I tried on this dress because on the hanger I could not tell what it was supposed to look like. Putting it on my body did not clear up that confusion at all. Why this dress was designed is one of the great mysteries of our time. The mesh up top? The little strings around the shoulders? The waistline that plunged to about an inch above my knee? I think this dress might be a practical joke. And in case you cannot tell from the expression on my face: I am not amused.
Not pictured: The Dress with Superfluous Zippers, The Dress With the V-Neck That Dipped Two Inches Below My Breasts, The Short Dress That Felt Like It Was Made of Ivory Denim. Also not pictured: the dress that I actually bought and am going to wear to my wedding (I’m trying to keep that bit secret from Collin). If you really want to see another picture of me, check me out in the Plain Dealer’s slide show!
1A note about the shirt: this year’s model reads “I survived…” on the front and “The Running of the Brides” on the back. The shirt is light pink. The words “I survived…” fall right on the bosom. From the front it really, really, really looks like a shirt about breast cancer.