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The princess dress of my memories

“Mommy, what did you say when the priest asked if you wanted to marry Daddy?”, my 6-year-old asked over dinner. She was unusually chatty this evening. “Well, I said yes.” Surprise, surprise! I said yes in a church because I wanted that white dress. A spectacular white dress.

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As a young girl growing up in a German-Danish household I always looked forward to the ferry ride between Germany and Denmark so that I could pick up the ferry magazine that always had an advertisement for a wedding dress on the back. I spent hours daydreaming of one day wearing such a beautiful dress, which in hindsight was really just kitsch.

Decades later I was engaged and soon to be married in the most beautiful white dress I have ever seen. My mum had flown to Washington to go wedding dress shopping together. It was the second dress I tried on. I called my dad to tell him about the dress and the exorbitant price. Why did I do that? I was in my 30s, earning my own money, and had already set my heart on that dress.

The dress turned out to be one of the best investments I have ever made. Not only did I look beautiful in it, even though I had gained a couple of kilos by the time of the wedding. But more importantly, the feeling of the fabric against my bare skin, the sound it made when I walked, the image of the dress how it flowed softly around my waste, the surprise in my fiancés eyes when he would see me walking down the aisle, all that helped me get through one of the toughest years in my career:

When the humid hot air entered through the closed window and the hotel room turned into a hot mess, I kicked the thick feather duvet off my tired and jetlagged body because I had turned the AC off which was supposed to turn the room into an ice cube as guests cuddle under the duck feathers. I was lying there, wide awake, sweating and my heart pounding so loud that I felt like the room was spinning. Then I visualized my dress, my gorgeous long, princess dress. I was touching it, shaking it gently to hear the rustling sound, wrapping myself in its protective embrace, until I finally, finally fell asleep.

Set the timer to 10 minute and make a list of all the dresses, skirts, shirts, hats, scarves that come to your mind and your association with it, like the blue cashmere jumper that was softer than a kitten’s fur and matched your eyes but that had shrunk to the size of an apple after your mom had washed it too hot. If a piece of clothing pops up that you hated wearing, add it to the list, like the blouse with the huge collar you wore on the class picture when you were 15 and in love with the cool boy of the class with the grass green eyes. Pick one item, set the timer to 10 minutes for some freewriting.

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Dr. Stefanie Brodmann
stefanie@thewritingflow.com

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