I don't like David's Bridal. I think that the majority of their product is poor quality and the staff is unbelievably uneducated. If you found your dream wedding gown or dream brides maid dresses at David's Bridal, I mean no offense. I am pleased to hear that your experience there was better than mine.
Kirsten and I decided that David's Bridal would be the perfect place to go to get a crinoline and a sash for Kirsten's wedding gown. We entered the establishment and were greeted by a friendly and eager 19-year-old. "Welcome to David's bridal! How may I help you?" Instantly, I experienced Deja Vu of Wal-Mart. I could see into the future about 50 years when this perky girl named Jessica would undoubtedly be a Wal Mart greeter. I dismissed my premonition and mentally returned to the matter at hand.
"Hi, Jessica. We are looking for an A-line crinoline," I said, scanning the store to see if I could locate one myself.
Jessica stared at me as if I had just sprouted antlers. Kirsten noticed the uncomfortable pause as well as the blatant confusion.
"A petticoat," she added, thinking that this term would be more common.
The light bulb visibly turned on in Jessica's head as she understood what we wanted. "Oh! A petticoat! Sure, follow me!"
She led us to the front of the store and sifted through various capes. When she had found one that she was sure would work, she presented the cape proudly to us. "Well, this one is white and has fur on it, but it goes all the way to the floor." Jessica was oh so proud of her discovery.
Now it was our turn to stare in confusion and wonderment. After several seconds of awkward silence, I couldn't help myself. I blurted out, "CRINOLINE. You know. The thing that makes a dress puffy." Seriously. This term is not foreign, or at least should not be foreign if you work in a friggin' wedding shop.
Jessica looked offended. She hung up the cape, sniffed and matter-of-factly said, "Well, here at David's bridal, we call them slips." Whatever. By this point I just wanted the stupid petticoat so we could leave. She led us to the back of the store where they kept their 'slips' and handed Kirsten the appropriate size. Jessica did not ask us if we needed anything else. I had obviously wounded her pride and she went back to the front of the store to lick her wounds.
Kirsten and I turned to the sash department and prayed that this experience would be easier than the other.
This is when Mary offered her assistance. "May I help you?"
Here we go again. "Yes," I said. "We are looking for a sash that is about three inches thick in candy apple red."
Mary listened intently and nodded to show that she understood. She led us over to sashes of various sizes and picked up a candy apple red ribbon. The ribbon was the right color but it was obviously a ribbon, not the three inch sash that I had asked for.
"That is the perfect color," Kirsten said, "but do you have it in a thicker fabric?"
"No," Mary said. "This is all we have. But look how versatile it is." Mary began wrapping the ribbon around Kirsten's waist and showing us about how it would be perfect (bear in mind that Mary hadn't seen Kirsten's dress in the first place). I tried to explain to her what the dress looked like and why we needed the thicker sash.
As I was speaking to Mary, Kirsten spotted the perfect size sash that was displayed on a mannequin. "Mary, this is what I am looking for. This exact sash only in candy apple red." Mary takes the ribbon and walks over to the mannequin. She compares the ribbon with the sash and considers them side by side for several seconds. She turns to us. "They're the same thing," she proclaims.
It was quite obvious that the ribbon and the sash were not the same. They weren't even made of the same material. Mary showed us the product numbers to prove that they were the same thing and quickly found out that they were not.
We left the store with the crinoline in hand and the sash ordered. Done. Painful.
By the way, the sash ended up not being candy apple red.