So one day, I walked into a bridal salon.
Two young consultants greeted me with looks from head to toe — fingers spread like fans, polite but mocking smiles full of condescension.
One of them asked:
“Are you looking for a dress for your granddaughter?”
I smiled and quietly replied:
“No, I’m looking for a dress for myself.”
Their expressions changed instantly.
One whispered to the other:
“OH GOD… DO WE EVEN SELL DRESSES FOR ELDERLY BRIDES?”
The other laughed:
“SERIOUSLY, GRANDMA? A WEDDING DRESS AT YOUR AGE?”
I tried not to react and picked a dress I really liked.
In the fitting room, as soon as I began trying it on, I heard their quiet giggles again.
Tears began to well up in my eyes.
I was about to leave when a woman walked into the salon — tall, elegant, around thirty-five.
She immediately sent the consultants to the back room and sincerely apologized for their behavior.
She was the owner of the salon.
She smiled at me and said:
“You don’t need anyone’s approval. This dress looks beautiful on you.”
Then she added: Continue reading…
