I saw this post on SWmag and it made me a little sad. My visit to Kleinfelds was unbelievably disappointing.
So I didn't blog about this earlier because I made the horrible mistake of telling my consultant that I had a blog and was worried I would hurt her feelings. In retrospect, the fact that she put me in the least flattering dresses ever, leads me to believe she couldn't have cared less about my blog. She certainly didn't care about me when I was at Kleinfelds. It was a little ridiculous to think she would care about me in her free time.
Basically, I went to Kleinfeld's with my baby sister, who I adore. She loves the show and was in NY for a day, so we had to make it happen. When I got there I was a little underwhelmed, but I tried to stay positive.
My consultant, lets call her Connie, was 30 minutes late... tried harder to stay positive. I am one of the most impatient people in the world. The only thing I hate more than being late is when other people are late.
We went into the little room where she asked me what I was looking for... I told her "romantic, classic, love lace." I showed her a few pictures and she said ok. Then she had us walk around and pick dresses from the showroom. To be honest, I didn't see anything I liked. Everything was super poofy or covered in beading (barf!). Also a number of the dress just looked sad. Like they'd been tried on 1 to many times and need to be sent off to a nice farm to play with other old beauties. Regardless, I tried to be a good sport and stay open-minded (which I am neither of) and I pointed at a few dresses and headed back in.
Long story short, after I tried on the dresses I had reluctantly selected, Connie brought in three dresses she thought I would LOVE. One was a weird grey grecian dress which I am pretty sure wasn't even a wedding dress. The second one was a sequined-covered monstrosity. It was huge! I refused to even put it on. It looked like a giant disco ball.
At this point I thought it was necessary to remind Connie that I would be getting married in the the daytime on a beach in Costa Rica. So she revealed her third selection, which was the tulle baby of a tradition southern belle dress and... ugly (not something ugly but uglyness in its pure form). Ok, so at this point I was no longer trying to be positive. Furthermore, I no longer wanted to be standing there with no clothes under pretty unflattering florescent lightening. So that's that. I almost certainly won't be going back.
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