Is This What a Real Wedding SOS Looks Like!?!

Caveat: I wrote this for myself, to get my thoughts out at the time. I understand it might be a bit of a dry read for some.

I am forever baffled by the fact that some people approach most, if not all, new encounters with suspicion instead of a level of enthusiasm and genuine curiosity to get acquainted with a new person. As a relatively confident person myself, it is challenging to deal with people who clearly aren’t confident—especially when, even after hyping them up in some ways and showing support in smaller, or even bigger, ways, they press the brakes and still remain at their low energy and engagement level, yet refuse to say “no, thank you.”

Now, I understand that it is not possible for all of us to like every person we encounter, but why would that matter if the interaction is about doing something conducive—perhaps mutually beneficial—and when offering genuine help and trying to build connections, whether for business purposes or otherwise? I don’t gain much other than some new knowledge when I offer to help or make suggestions to a new person, which is part of my way of building rapport, since I quite despise small talk as it’s not helpful in any way. So why don’t some people appreciate it?

I’ve known for years and years that I want to get married to my best friend (whom I’ve yet to meet, perhaps?)—albeit marriage was on the cards twice during my slightly younger adult years, in fact, the last time only a year or two ago. Someday, I will marry, and it will be only once in this lifetime.

I had an older female friend (though still young at 41–43), or so I thought, when I was in my early 30s. We met while studying law—she was doing her master’s, and I was doing my undergraduate law degree. At some point, it occurred to me: Hey, I finally have a female friend to go try on wedding dresses with, instead of doing it alone—to figure out my personal style and taste in wedding gowns.

Well, unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately—that never materialised. For some strange, jealousy-driven reason, Leila chose to deliberately sabotage the connection we had been building over several months and meetups, including playing tennis together a few times. I remember she seemed quite desperate to start a family—seemingly desperate in a way I couldn’t fully understand. Then she met a lawyer, began dating him, and the three of us played tennis together at least once.

Unfortunately, her dictator-esque approach to dating and finding a life partner backfired, and they broke up after only a few months. I remember thinking that even though the man wasn’t particularly attractive and, like many lawyers, wasn't especially kind or clever outside his field, he still seemed to be the more mature and decent one in that relationship. All things considered, he was definitely the more desirable partner—but it appeared he just wasn’t physically attracted to Leila. She could have enhanced her appearance in many ways but chose instead to be insecure about it and accept defeat.

Anyway, when she decided to sabotage our budding friendship after around eight months, I remember her immaturely calling my then-beloved Miss Dior perfume “foul-smelling,” which was baffling. She actually said it “smelled like shit,” effectively implying that I smelled like shit. I really liked Miss Dior at the time—it certainly didn’t smell foul—and her reaction struck me as deeply immature. It wasn’t just a heat-of-the-moment comment, possibly driven by hormones or stress, but rather seemed to reflect her negative, perhaps disordered, personality. It was very disappointing to see her true colours come out. That was the end of the friendship. I never looked back, but I did feel a bit let down.

On top of my disappointment over yet another woman turning against me for some bizarre reason (though I know it’s always at least partly about jealousy—jealousy about what, however, usually remains unclear to me), I found myself thinking, Damn, now again I don’t have anyone to go try wedding dresses on with.

Fast forward from 2017/18 to now—2025—and I’ve finally done it. I finally went to try on wedding dresses, and I did it by myself.

At present, the dream of getting married is still there, but the wedding day cannot—nor should it—be the highlight. At the same time, I don’t know whether marriage is meant to happen for me. Only God knows if it’s part of my journey, and if or when I might meet my best friend—unless I already have.

The way this dress try-on came about was through a fantastic free wedding show I attended in London back in March. I discovered it quite randomly through Eventbrite. The entire event was an incredibly positive surprise, especially considering it was free of charge. They had plenty of interesting stalls, boutique and business owners showcasing their products and services—and my gosh, the catering was amazing! Free cocktails, too, though I only had one. I’m so glad I attended—by myself, of course.

Now, it’s worth pointing out that I’m not the kind of person who maintains contact just for the sake of appearances or out of loneliness. If a connection isn’t rooted in genuine, mutually respectful, and uplifting energy—whether it’s an existing friendship or one in the making—I avoid it like the plague. As a result, I am mostly by myself. Friends, or “friends,” have come and gone. I have met some genuinely decent people over the years, but all relationships are ultimately temporary, whether we like it or not.

Back to the event—it was a lovely day. I also had a good chat with an Italian wedding boutique owner who had set up a beautiful stand to showcase her gowns and accessories. Since no one else was speaking with her at the time, I took the opportunity to approach her and ask quite a few questions about the event and her business. I’m a start-up founder myself (albeit not in the wedding industry), and I try to remind myself that most interactions can be opportunities to network. You never know who you might meet or what good might come of it. It seems I’m one of the few who still thinks that way.

I believe trust should be the default—what’s earned is mistrust. While it’s good to be cautious with new people, it’s far better to approach others with confidence and openness rather than clinging to old habits and suspicions. Leading with genuine interest and a baseline of trust is a much healthier way to engage.

The boutique owner, Fran, was warm and lively—as many Italians are. I took the opportunity to ask if I could book an appointment to try on dresses in the coming weeks or months. I told her (truthfully) that no wedding date has been set yet, but we’re planning to get married within the next 6 to 18 months. I didn’t go into my personal beliefs about manifestation, nor did I explain everything about my situation—because frankly, that’s nobody’s business. I simply wanted to try on dresses for future reference, to get a better idea of what suits me, and to create a new memory for myself—especially if it turns out that marriage isn’t in God’s plan for me. I don’t know yet, but God does.

This way, when the time does come for us to marry, I won’t be overly fixated on the material aspects. I’ve already gotten the “heat” out of the way by trying on dresses without a confirmed wedding. The last relationship I had was with a man I genuinely thought I’d marry, but fate had other plans. I trust the process—and I trust God.

I don’t understand why so many people act like you must have everything confirmed—venue, date, partner—before you’re “allowed” to try on wedding dresses. At the end of the day, it’s just a dress, albeit for a very special occasion. The only decision boutiques should be concerned with is whether or not to charge a booking fee. Fran didn’t charge me (she does not charge anyone), which I appreciated—and I had already asked about that back in March to avoid surprises.

Surely, any information about a wedding date or plans should come voluntarily from the bride-to-be. There’s no need for boutique staff to pry for details beyond style preferences. When I visited the boutique yesterday and Fran asked me to remind her of my plans, I reiterated what I’d shared in March: no confirmed date, but planning within the next 6–18 months. It’s a major decision, after all, and not one we take lightly.

I could have just answered “no,” “no,” and “no” to everything—but I believe in the power of manifestation. This was a good opportunity to articulate that intention out loud, while still maintaining my boundaries and keeping private what didn’t need to be shared.

I’m also now noticing how some people react when you choose to maintain your privacy and not disclose everything. It’s interesting—and revealing.

Yesterday was a truly wonderful afternoon at Fran’s boutique—and, quite unexpectedly, I even gained a borrowed family in the process. A lovely Iraqi couple and their 17-year-old daughter—who looked every bit the fairy-tale princess—had come in to search for a prom gown. They happen to be Fran’s neighbours, and what began as a simple appointment soon turned into more of a bridal gown fitting and impromptu photo shoot.

Fran, the kind-hearted mother, the radiant young daughter, and I all found ourselves snapping photos, taking turns directing each other and sort of sharing the joy of the moment. It was spontaneous and light-hearted—filled with laughter and creativity. I was even treated to some cold prosecco and the most delicious cannelloni, freshly brought over from Rome. It almost felt like a small celebration than a dress fitting.

Now, I’m usually quite camera shy—something rooted in my upbringing—but I’ve been evolving a lot lately. Since last summer, I’ve been regaining my confidence and evolving in so many positive ways. I allowed them to take photos of me in a few beautiful gowns, even offering a bit of direction, since I know my angles, have good taste, and, when you're the one in front of the lens, you tend to know what works (hopefully!).

Many of the shots turned out quite beautifully, so I decided to post them immediately last night on my social media—focusing also on promoting Fran’s boutique and couture through my Instagram. I even switched my profile back to public and changed it to a creator account to help with visibility. While she seems somewhat appreciative of the effort, albeit could be just words, I sense some underlying insecurity on her part. She’s likely at least a decade older than me, and while that shouldn’t matter, age differences do sometimes colour how people perceive and interact with each other—consciously or not. That all depends on a person’s level of self-awareness, of course.

Since our initial conversation back in March, I always had it in mind that I would follow through and reach out—something I make a point of doing in general. I believe in following through on things I say I will do, and I usually do. So, I was glad the more casual fitting appointment actually materialised. After yesterday’s lovely experience, I thought it would make sense to start building a proper rapport with Fran. After all, you never know what opportunities or mutually beneficial outcomes could stem from a simple, friendly connection or interaction—especially between two women in creative fields and business.

I also logically assumed she might see the value in this, particularly as I could become a future paying client—one who is willing to spend good money, perhaps more than her average client, for a once-in-a-lifetime gown of exceptional quality. But now I’m starting to notice what feels like resistance. It seems she, like many others I’ve encountered, doesn’t share this mindset of “planting seeds for the future.” Instead, it feels more transactional: “If you’re not buying from me now or very soon, I’m not interested in cultivating this connection—and might even sabotage the budding rapport we’ve already started building.”

I find that mentality incredibly short-sighted and difficult to understand.

As I was posting some of the better images last night and chatting with Fran on WhatsApp (which, truthfully, I should’ve just called her instead), it occurred to me: since I’ll likely be volunteering again at London Fashion Week this September—like I did last winter—and possibly walking the runway for some designers this time, maybe I could use some of yesterday’s images to accompany my application. Not that anyone mentioned it was required; last time, the casting was done on the day of the shows. It was chaos, to be honest. We were all left waiting around for the first two to three hours, totally in the dark about what was happening.

Interestingly, one of the actual models assumed I was also a model. She noticed I’d been waiting a long while without being called for a fitting and kindly offered to ask around on my behalf. She was a beautiful, kind Italian woman, and I really appreciated her gesture. In contrast, a younger Cypriot woman, who was sitting next to me and whom I came to know as a fellow Front of House volunteer, was giving off cold body language from the start. She clearly had no interest in interacting, even though she too was just sitting and waiting by herself. When the model offered to help me, the Cypriot woman suddenly cut in to say, “We’re both Front of House!”—making sure to shut down any assumption that I might walk the runway. It was such an unnecessary, almost jealous interruption. Why she felt the need to do that, I am not sure. Maybe it was my height, my confidence, or something else entirely.

Now, back to Fran. During our WhatsApp exchange last night, after I casually mentioned that I might use some of the pictures for LFW applications, she suddenly became dismissive—especially after I shared how that younger woman likely sabotaged my chances last time. Fran replied, “You should have said the pictures were to be used for that purpose,” and “I think you can agree on that.” I remember thinking: What is she talking about? Just before that, she had also sent another slightly strange message: “I actually wanted to tell you yesterday that I knew you didn’t come cause you’re getting married. You don’t even wear a ring ;) and you were too specific with all those pictures.”

Little did she know that my (lab-grown) diamond ring actually broke in half that very morning (maybe a sign!) after nearly five years of daily wear—just hours before our informal try-on appointment. But beyond that, there are so many reasons a bride-to-be might not be wearing a ring: swollen fingers, worries about snagging the dress during fittings, simply forgetting to put it back on after a shower. And not all people who are engaged wear rings. So why jump straight to suspicion?

She also wrote, “I’m not naïve,” yet her messages suggest otherwise. Fran added, “I don’t mind, but I always appreciate clarity.” Ironically, she herself wasn’t clear about her expectations and intentions. If she had concerns or questions about the images or their use, why not simply ask me there and then? But also, and importantly, I was the photo subject.

It’s starting to feel like a case of one rule for others and another for Fran. I explained everything to her and kept it brief: no, I’m not engaged (never said I was), and no, I hadn’t planned to use the photos for modelling until after we took them and I saw how good some of them turned out. That idea came after, not before. Not that it should matter to her or to anyone, in any case.

Anyway, Fran saw the 15 images (not intending to keep them all there for weeks and months to come) I posted on Instagram from yesterday’s boutique visit — each one carefully tagged with her IG and accompanied by a thank-you note. I was genuinely trying to spotlight her work and showcase her designs in the most flattering light.

Today, she decided to post a collage of four photos featuring me wearing her gowns. She didn’t ask permission before posting — the only thing she asked was whether I’d like to be tagged. I replied there was no need, since I’m not the designer. What I didn’t expect was for her to bypass the basic courtesy of checking in before using my image — something most people, especially in fashion or creative spaces, would consider a respectful step.

When I noticed two of the four photos were not the best — mainly due to poor resolution and a couple of unflattering angles — I politely suggested she replace them to maintain consistency and elevate the presentation overall. I framed it in terms of quality control, not vanity. Her response? A “thank you but” followed by a flat refusal to make the changes.

Once again: one rule for others, another for Fran.

I didn’t make it personal. I didn’t criticise her. I offered a professional, constructive suggestion. But even that didn’t land well. Two or three of the images she used don’t do me justice — sure — but they also don’t show off the gowns as well as the others, which should matter if we’re promoting her work.

And so, I find myself asking the inevitable: why do I even bother with people like this? When I go out of my way to support someone, take initiative, offer visibility and exposure, why is it met with suspicion, resistance, or defensiveness?

But I do take some solace in knowing that Fran is actively sabotaging a potentially valuable relationship — whether as a well-paying future client or a useful business contact. She described herself as kind in one of her messages (not randomly, but during a discussion), yet her actions seem to show the exact opposite.

For instance, when I offered to do a few things for her—like reaching out to British Vogue to inquire about featuring her boutique and gowns, or finding out what it takes to get that kind of exposure—she immediately hit the brakes and responded with suspicion.

She doesn’t know me, which means she also can’t know whether I might be an extremely knowledgeable and well-connected businessperson with skills and contacts that could genuinely benefit her and her boutique. But instead of considering that possibility, she seemed to have chosen to assume the worst. And she won’t even just say, “Thank you, but no thank you.” Had she done that, I would not pursue it further.

Why? Maybe because, while her designs are lovely—some even gorgeous—they’re not the most stunning wedding dresses there is. And when the time really comes for our wedding planning, why would I want to work with someone who acts like a “negative Nancy”? Someone who, rather than matching the kindness and openness I’ve shown her, chooses suspicion and negativity. Someone who dismisses the fact that there are decent people willing to help others simply because they can and choose to—and because these connections can also lead to mutual growth and opportunity. The possibilities from genuine kindness are endless.

Kindness is an advanced disposition, and insecure people like Fran—whether consciously or not—seem to lack it. Sure, healthy caution is important, but why would a businessperson refuse small offers of help that could benefit them now or later? The help I offered required little effort or time from her, more from me, but could have meaningful returns. Yet she chose to almost shut down that opportunity but not quite.

It seems many people, including Fran, do not recognise genuine kindness when it’s right in front of them. Shame. When I suggested reaching out to Vogue, in addition to offering to connect her with a couple of content creator contacts of mine to help with her social media—since she expressed that she struggles with it—Fran said we need to sit down to discuss terms. I wonder what terms, since there aren’t any when people offer help for the right reasons. If Fran assumes I have some agenda, that’s on her. She should know to ask for clarity.

Of course, I clarified things further without being asked, and reminded her that my offers to help won’t be available forever. I also mentioned how I myself welcome any useful help, especially now as a new start-up founder. I have nothing to lose here except a bit of time, which is why I haven’t contacted anyone yet—because Fran keeps adding these silly roadblocks. Still, she could benefit from and through me. As for me, gaining new knowledge and experience from negative people? It’s a no from me! But let’s see how this saga may evolve in the coming weeks and months — or will it just be crickets soon?

As a side note, Fran, a woman in her 50s, uses expressions like “lol” and the crying-laughing emoji in the weirdest (albeit not uncommon) ways—such as when I gave her a genuine compliment about her seeming to be good at social media based on her IG as it currently is. This woman simply cannot accept a compliment, which also indicates insecurity and immaturity.

I have now left it up to her to let me know the date and time for our discussion about the so-called terms, followed by a glass of wine near her boutique. I’d bet she won’t be confirming anything to me anytime soon, if ever. Oh well, her loss—and a slight disappointment for me because it would only affirm that I’ve encountered yet another narrow-minded, insecure, jealousy-driven woman who takes but does not give. I, myself, belong to the latter group.

P.S. The use of emojis has really led us astray and only adds to people’s immaturity and insecurity.

Thank you for reading.

Elisa Adélienne