Love for shopping was natural but that assumed deadly proportions with each passing year. Being hopelessly romantic at heart and shopaholic by passion was enough to throw me in frenzy when my wedding date was announced. Getting married to my boyfriend was comforting enough for me to channelize all my energy in shopping. And out I went like an untamed Bridezilla ready to devour anything and everything that even had the remotest possibility of being of any use in my wedding. This Bridezilla also spit fire occasionally on those who tried to talk her out of that frantic shopping spree. After all, it was MY wedding and like every bride, I also felt that I’m the first and the last bride on the planet!
Six months of gap between engagement and wedding was a good time frame to stock up my regular dope of shopping. With due regard to the countless spa & salon treatments I endured, a retail therapy was a far superior way to soothe my senses and satiate my soul. Living in a city that is a shopper’s paradise threw up endless avenues for loosening my purse string at the drop of a hat for anything that could be a part of my bridal trousseau.Everything had to be perfect and of course, the best!
My shopaholic alter ego in an overdrive ran berserk piling up goodies from an endless list of must-buys - bridal accessories, jewelry, lingerie, makeup, fragrances, toiletries, bed linens etcetera etcetera, although I knew that most of those will never see the light of the day a second time – but then “my wedding and reception outfits are special to me”, my mind would trick me! After blowing up the booty kept aside by my parents for my wedding shopping, I resorted to my credit cards. Credit card payment cheques departed as soon as the salary cheques came in. After bringing home the most expensive labels I’d ever worn (and the most blingy accessories too!), my bank account hit rock-bottom but that didn’t deter me from further shopping. I transformed into a bargain huntress on the prowl!!
The four-lettered word ‘SALE’ had a hypnotic effect on me and gave me an excuse to accumulate stuff for post-wedding times as well. The choicest Victoria’s secrets for the honeymoon, the itsy bitsy dresses for beach vacation on Valentine’s, the LBD for one of the many candlelight dinners to come, the killer stilettos for clubbing-dos, the ethnic chic for first diwali… the list was endless and so were my excuses. My wardrobe was on the verge of bursting at seams but my shopahol hangover refused to get over easily. The eclectic mix of designer wear and bargain buys offered me a little solace when a bit of sanity set in.
The D-Day tiptoed amidst this madness. It brought the curtains down to the days of hysteria I endured for those six months and the atrocities I subjected to my family and BFFs by those crazy jaunts and numerous dress rehearsals and ushered me in the next drama titled ‘The big fat Indian Wedding’! I put my best foot forward in my handpicked outfit and makeup. The admiration I garnered as the blushing- beautiful- radiant bride made me feel so much better for my feet gone sore from those endless shopping spree. The effort seemed to have finally paid off well!
Three years into marriage, I can’t really recall if each item of my bridal treasure has got a chance to venture out of the closet even once. But whenever it does, it sure grabs some attention. A compliment or two on that wedding special collection item –a pair of chandelier earrings or an ornate outfit or flashy footwear or a bright clutch, lessens my guilt for the sinful indulgence. As I sit flipping through my wedding album today, I walk down the memory lane and re-live each moment of the shopping frenzy that has become a part of these wonderful memories. I feel that’s the best wedding gift I could have given myself! And to all the brides waiting to walk to aisle, my two cents – you get married only once (ideally!), so go splurge!!!
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