"...and a fabulous dress."

Since going from 'girlfriend' to the ever more illustrious 'fiancee,' I have been happily ensconced in a routine of opening engagement cards from family and friends in the morning and pouring over wedding websites for, well, the rest of the day. But then I recieved a card from a favourite aunt that read, "All you need is love...and a fabulous dress." Suddenly I morphed from contented fiancee into panicked bride-to-be. I mentally catalogued all of the stress-free, fun 'planning' I'd been doing so far and realized a horrible truth. Each idea that I came up with, each color scheme, each venue...all were preceded with the words "depending on the dress." That was it. No more plans could be made until I found it-the perfect wedding dress.

Of course, being a carrier of two x-chromosomes I naturally had my perfect dress in mind. Just as I naturally had fifty alternatives. This, as any experienced bride or bride-to-be will tell you, means it's time to hash out a few of the broadest details of the upcoming nuptuals with your intended so as to help you narrow down a few of the practicalities for your perfect gown. "Darling," I said to Him that night, "I'd like to get married in Pennsylvania in December." That discussion finished, I was able to cross lingerie-thin silks and spaghetti straps off my dream gown list. Time for step two.

Step two involves an excellent internet connection as my mother, sister, girlfriends, neighbor, great-aunt Tilly, and myself all rapid-fire images of this and that beautiful dress to one another's email. This helps for two reasons. One, great-aunt Tilly's search for "demure lace and taffeta" comes up with much different results from my sister's "sexiest wedding dresses of all time," thereby giving me a wider range of styles to consider. And two, it allows me to get an idea of everybody's sense of beautiful so that I can have a list of non-offending "it's lovely,but" excuses at the ready for the forthcoming shopping frenzy.

The tricky part is to pinpoint exactly what it is about different dresses that I like and don't like. I've now got huge lists of necklines, waistlines and hemlines, complete with photographs, separated into likes and don't likes. Pouffy is just not flattering. Those stupid bubble-bottom skirts look like deflated balloons. And Pin-tucked taffeta makes me want to go on a dress-destroying rampage. I tend to pick out A-lines and asymmetrical dropped waistlines. Sparkly makes me go "ooh," while structured makes me go "ew."

After nearly two months of online dress searches, I have a pretty detailed idea of what looks terrible and what looks fabulous. Unfortunately it has recently occurred to me that what I really have is an idea of what looks fabulous on the tall, rail-thin and beautiful girls modelling the wedding gowns. Though I have no problems with my shape, there's no doubt that it's a different shape from the typical model. What looks great on them may look terrible on me. There's nothing for it but to wait until I can actually walk into a dress shop, which I refuse to do until I'm back in Pennsylvania. After all, the best part of choosing a wedding dress is trying them all on with your loved ones around to ooh and aah. And I am not risking missing out on that by setting foot into a shop in the UK and finding one that I have to have.

So for now it's back to rapid-fire emails and lists. At least when I finally do make it to the dress shop I'll be able to impress everyone with my knowledge of waistlines. And in the meantime I do know that cathedral trains and winter weather do not mix.