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FASHION Magazine's Very Own Sarah Casselman Talks About Her Upcoming Wedding

  |   By scasselman

With our wedding day a mere eight weeks away (cue the excitement/anxiety) I am starting to get a mean case of The Lists. Regardless of where I am or what time of day (or night) it is, I find myself going through the mile-long checklist over and over again: wedding dress (check), table favours (need to still order them but we’ve already contacted the vendor, so half a check), tasting with the caterer (check), my shoes (sadly no check yet but funny given where I work; our merch closets are always chockfull of fabulous sole mates) and invitations (check, thanks for mailing them Mom!)  

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FASHION Magazine's Very Own Sarah Casselman Talks About Her Upcoming Wedding

This past weekend it was time to cross off another crucial detail on our seemingly never-ending list. Since I’d already said yes to the dress, it was someone else’s turn to find the frock of their dreams: my 7-year-old niece Abby (a.k.a The Flower Girl). This mini fashionista-in-training knows exactly what she wants (“a lavender dress and wavy hair”), which makes our shopping sojourn a joy and a terror.  Armed with reinforcements (my sister-in-law and mother), we head to Jacadi, the pretty Parisian children’s boutique filled with sweet sea-worthy onesies, preppy striped ties, beautiful cotton dresses made for twirling and soft white quilts that beg for a light spring breeze and an open window. Let the shopping begin! Abby walks to the racks, “there’s only white and pink,” she says matter-of-factly. I can feel my stomach tighten, unsure if we’re on the brink of a meltdown. Two gorgeous tea-length dresses make the fitting room cut and anything pink has dropped out of the running. The first dress is deemed “too short”, yet I can tell my niece feels like a princess, spinning around for anyone who will be her audience in the store.  The second look (a beautiful short-sleeve dress with an organza skirt and ribbon belt) is declared the winner with four simple words (“I like this one”), two twirls and one giant smile.  Success. On our way to lunch to celebrate our pretty purchase, there’s talk of shoes (“I want to wear little heels”) and limos (“I want to go with Sarah”), while her hand slips quietly into mine. I’m suddenly aware that I’ve forgotten about The Lists, even if it’s just for a moment. A memorable Saturday for all the right reasons.

This article was originally published on Apr 20, 2011
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