Tips for Running of the Brides

So not only did I find my dress at Filene's Running of the Brides, I had a great time doing it. Here are some of my tips for RotB success.

○ Make appointments at a couple fancy bridal salons BEFORE RotB. Soak up all the luxury, comfy seats and unctuous salespeople. Note what you like and what turns your hot self into a shapeless satin sack. Then get. out. Later, try not to cackle with glee when you find your dream dress at a fraction of the salon price.
○ Assemble a team of people. I went with my mother and sister, but we saw teams of 8-10 people. Smaller teams work just as well though! RotB is not for the faint of heart; it helps if your people are patient and eager bargainers. Take them out for celebratory drinks afterwards as thanks.
○ Bring snacks. I’m one of those people who must eat every 3 hours or everyone around me suffers the consequences. Take a 10-minute sandwich-and-apple break and wade back into the fray. Besides, eating a PBJ in a $5000 ballgown feels wondrously decadent.
○ Wear undergarments you’ll feel comfortable being seen in. For me this meant a strapless bra and black leggings. Every dress slid right over this combo, and it provided enough coverage so I could walk around and not feel like Flashy McBooberson.
○ Establish a beachhead. Although we arrived too late to scoop up the first round of dresses, I did secure a spot against the wall. One of us was always here, guarding purses and “maybe” dresses. It was calming to have an out-of-the way place to take a breather from the chaos. Had I been a little quicker, I would have snagged one of the emptied roller racks to hang my potential dresses.
○ Consult the alteration team. RotB has a deal with an alterations and cleaning company, and several very helpful women are on site advising brides about alterations. When I needed an impartial third party opinion, these women were great. They agreed the flowery garden hoop dress was cool, but were very realistic about the nature of the alterations it would need and would not guarantee they could straighten out the wonky hoop. Don’t be shy about asking their professional opinion!
○ Be flexible. We went in chanting “strapless lacey sheath. Strapless lacey sheath.” While this approach helped us focus in the face of such overwhelming choice, a few hours in I began trying on EVERYTHING that looked halfway interesting: frothy princess gowns, slinky silk numbers, bejeweled satin A-lines. It was fun, and it was fruitful: the gown I fell in love with was nothing like my original vision.
○ Be patient. If you are the 50th person in line, by the time you get inside the hall all the racks will be empty. Do not despair. After about an hour, most people have sifted through their stock and started putting their (beautiful, flawless) rejects back on the hangers, ready for you to come along and snap them up. You will try on a least six gowns that you love, I swear it.
○ Be friendly! I’m usually pretty shy, so it took me a while to approach total strangers and ask them about trades. But the conversations I had with other women were the best –and most surprising- thing about the morning. I confess to going to RotB with trepidation, expecting bridezillas out the yinyang. Far from it. Women went out of their way to find the dress for a total stranger. Heartfelt compliments floated back and forth. There was a real sense of camaraderie reminiscent of an oldskool sleepover with 300 of your best friends ;)

Hope these help someone out there. Anyone else survive a Running of the Brides and have tips to share?

The Dress: Part 1

My mom and sister convinced me that the Filene's Basement Running of the Brides in mid-February was a must. You've probably heard of this now-legendary annual tradition: hundred of brides and their teams of helpers wearing matching sproingy eyeball headbands and neon shirts storm the store packed full of thousands of plastic-wrapped gowns at deep discount (think $250, $350 and $500 for $3,000+ dresses). This year it was at Hynes Convention Center since Filene's no longer exists. We were glad since @ the old location we would have been waiting outside in the snow.

When the doors opened at 8 a.m. people literally sprinted into the showroom. By the time Team Cook got inside every rack was empty. Seriously- takes about a minute. I confess to feeling a little panicky, probably due to my standing against the wall in a strapless bra and leggings while my team canvassed empty racks. My fears were ill-founded: my intrepid mom and sis walked around, bargained for rejected dresses, and traded traded traded. I found that the best trading happened while walking around wearing the dress I wanted to get rid of, asking permission to poke at other people's racks (of gowns, people.) It was also worth zipping the rejects back in their plastic garment bags: helped retain their aura of desirability. While it took about 20 minutes before I even had a dress worth trying on, within an hour we were regularly unearthing worthy contenders. At first I focused on all-over Chantilly lace slim-fitting sheath or mermaid silhouette styles, but 3 hours in tried on anything that looked interesting (frothy orange feathered ballgown, I'm thinking of you.)

I have to say even though we joked beforehand about throwing elbows and battling wild-eyed women with huge rocks for the dream gown, the atmosphere inside was overwhelmingly positive and exciting. Girls cheered for each other when they found "the" dress, complimented each other on different styles, shared mirrors and offered honest opinions. It was really lovely, the occasional creepy dad-type with camera notwithstanding.


After four hours wrangling in and out of dresses I was torn between 2 very different gowns. (Apologies for not taking pictures: we were ignorant.)

Dress 1: a quirky, a-line one-strap flowery net thing. The net overlay floated away from the slip-like base layer on thin hoops. It was so different and fun, and seemed to fit well with our outdoor location. Downsides: the hoops were warped a bit, so it didn't hang quite right, aaand it was a size 4, which meant without losing a rib they'd have to reconstruct the top third to lace instead of button up.

Dress 2 was also amazing, and completely different. Strapless, soft champagne color, fitted through the bodice and down to abt mid thigh, where it flared out and draped all mermaidy around my feet. Dramatic low back with a sexy row of buttons all down the backside. This dress fit like a dream. Strangers approached me and entreated me to buy it immediately. My mom luurved this dress. There was no doubt I felt very va va voom in this dress. Downsides? The style was a total 180 from what I had originally envisioned. It was much more formal, more evening, more pools of candlelight and flutes of champagne and jazz orchestra over murmured conversations. The flowery net size 4 was much funkier, more sushi and rockabilly and drunk karaoke in a barn. How to combine these two very different, equally compelling visions?

I agonized for an hour, hoovering up compliments. I would have thought about it overnight but there was no chance at this crazy sale thing. After the dress alteration team told me they couldn't guarantee straightening out the hoops in dress #1, and the alterations it would need, I went with dress #2 (but you saw that coming 2 paragraphs ago, right?). It doesn't even need alterations! Fits me like its custom! Now I'm having fun envisioning a glam sideswept 'do with birdcage veil for the ceremony, maybe changing to a flower in my hair and sparkly flats for the reception...

Looking back on it, trying to formulate an entire wedding style around two drastically different dresses is a lot of pressure for a few pounds of taffeta and silk. In the end, I went with my gut, and chose the dress that will make the dude say "damn." I'll get my quirk fix with orange shoes, yellow pedicabs, and a homemade photobooth.


...coming up: How I spend my lunch breaks (with photos!) also: Running of the Brides tips; what's this about a pedicab?

The Engagement

The following is lifted from the announcement email I sent to friends and family after our engagement last December. I hesitate to think how long I spent composing that "poem".

(with apologies to Edward Lear)

If your boyfriend of many a year
Says, “Let’s go for a run!” - have no fear.
A box tied with a bow
He’s on one knee in the snow
And you’ll say “God, yes! I will marry yer!”


In mid-December last year Eric and I went for a run with the dog at the Middlesex Fells reservation near Boston.

In the middle of the Fells is a tall stone tower that I always climb for a great view of Boston and surrounding countryside. As I was admiring the view, the dog bounded up with a little gold box tied to her collar, and when I leaned over the side all suspicious, Eric was standing down below, holding up a stereo playing a song so cheesily romantic I'm embarrassed to tell you what it is.*

He climbed up to meet me, got down on one knee and said something (memory's a little hazy here) about wanting to spend the rest of his life with me. After I said yes and he slipped the ring on my finger we had a mini dance party on top of the tower and then we ran home to tell my folks.

While we don't have a date set, the wedding will probably be early fall next year. The only thing for sure is that we want to celebrate with as many of our relatives and friends as we possibly can!





*'Glory of Love' by Peter Cetera. Google the lyrics now for maximum awesome.

Back with a (themed) vengeance

So what happens when you last post 2 years ago about your then-boyfriend breaking up with you? A whole bunch of stuff that ends in reconciliation and engagement, apparently. And lo, the prospect of spending serious money on your wedding shall cause you to flex your blogging muscles once more.

For now, I'm going to be looking forward: posting mostly about wedding planning and the dude and related topics. Milk this taffeta-bedecked cow of inspiration until she's dry! But perhaps in the future I'll write about the "missing months" - they were dark and wierd, yo.