Fall focus:

“bridal splendor.”

1.

“How can we help you?”

“One of my bridesmaids won’t wear natural fibers for ethical reasons, so I need a dress that’s 100% synthetic. I mean, ZERO materials that were once part of, adjacent to, or even breathed on by a plant or animal. Preferably lavender and shiny enough to burn a house down if the sun glances off it the wrong way.”

“We have this lovely floor-length option. It’s made entirely of ‘Fantanza.’”

“Perfect.”

2. & 3.

“I’d really love a wedding gown inspired by The Little Mermaid.”

“Sure thing. How about this?”

“No no, not that part of the story. The end scene—like, after the prince marries someone else and the mermaid’s body starts dissolving into sad ephemeral foam on the surface of the sea.”

“That happens?”

“It’s 1985. Disney version’s not out yet.”

“Gotcha. Foaming death. Here you go.”

4.

“So ideally, how would you like to feel on your wedding day?”

“Naked. Or, you know, ‘wrapped in my maiden aunt’s draperies.’”

“What if I said you could have the best of both worlds?”

 5.

“I’m a girl who knows what she wants. And what I want is a bedsheet, and a leg o’ mutton lace sleeve with ears.”

“I’ll wrap it right up.”

 6.

“So I have these blue spaghetti-strap bridesmaid dresses in the running, but I’m kind of afraid they’re too cute and sophisticated for 1985. Plus they show an indecent amount of collarbone. Can you recommend something to ugly them up appropriately—without breaking the bank?”

“How about a sheer embroidered shower curtain liner?”

“I love you.”

7.

“My mom wouldn’t buy me a ruffled lampshade when I was five and I never got over it.”

“Here ya go.”

8.

“My head and my waist are consistent sources of fashion headaches: Both of them are excessively dignified, no matter how much taffeta and Fantanza I throw on. Can you recommend a wedding look that will minimize the stubborn elegance of these ‘problem areas’?”

“Absolutely.”

9.

“I had a huge girl crush on this teacher in third grade. She wore the most glamorous dress I’d ever seen: a full-skirted black confection with a delicate two-toned ruffle at the neckline. When she’d turn to the chalkboard, you’d catch a fleeting glimpse of a vintage white petticoat that was just a trifle too long for the skirt. I know it’s an unconventional wedding look, but can you help me recreate it?”

“Certainly!”

“. . .Um.”

 

10.

“I’ve wanted an open-air wedding all my life. The prob? I live in a small town that’s visited by a Biblical plague of locusts at irregular intervals. On the off chance that a swarm descends during our Saturday in June, my dream wedding dress should incorporate enough detachable netting to shelter up to 150 guests at a moment’s notice. Do you have anything like that?”

“We’ve got you covered.”

11.

 

“How do you want your bridesmaids to look?”

“You know the evil witch sisters in Oz the Great and Powerful?”

“I do not. Because 1985.”

“Right. Okay, then how about ‘Joan Collins dressed as a tiger beetle, with butt bows and mesh gloves for extra beauty’?”

“That we can do.”

BONUS

“You’ve been brilliant. Now that all the ladies are clothed, what’s hot for the modern groom?”

“Through these doors and to your right. There’s a magnificent new line we think your guy will ADORE.”

 

Share your 80s fashion memories below (and photos, if you dare)! If 10 people comment, I’ll post a photo of me in my SUPER FUG junior prom dress.

ETA: All right, y’all. As promised. (I couldn’t find the prom pics in my house, so I had to prevail upon my dear mother to take photos of the photos and email them. So unfortunately, you can’t see every sequin. Apologies in advance.)

Here’s photo #1. Front view. It wasn’t even the 80s, people; it was the 90s. I have no excuse. (I will point out that it was bought in Athens, Georgia, birthplace of R.E.M. and the B-52s, so I’m hoping that lends the dress a patina of cool. Or not.)

Yes. Those are two-toned shoes. I throw myself upon your mercy.

Here’s the back view; again, I’m sorry to report that the details of the butt bow have been compromised by the picture quality, but at least you can see the magnificent white cutout in the back.

My hair was in a snood, you guys. I don’t even know.

Now that you’ve seen me in the dress Kelly Taylor rejected for the spring dance (the one where Brenda and Dylan Totally Did It), I feel we have no secrets between us anymore. (Except the fifth-grade science fair photo. NO ONE SEES THAT SHIT.)