I wish I had a fairy godmother

She could wave her little magic wand and find me the perfect wedding dress. You know, a little flourish and ta dah! I'd be dressed in the loveliest gown. Well, without the midnight deadline.

Alas, no Cinderella transformation for me.

For the past few months, I've been searching for a wedding dress. (Yes, even though I am The Hyphenator! and busy saving copy, I am getting married soon. Sorry, all you male punctuation enforcers. Yes, The Hyphenator is getting hitched in Hawaii. Hmm, I should change my name to The Amazing Alliterator!)

I'm getting married on the beach, so I'm looking for a dress that doesn't weigh a half ton. You know, one that doesn't have intricate lace, beading and sequins, tons of layers and crinoline, a big poufy skirt and a long train. But I'm not going to be frolicking in the surf (although I will be wearing flip flops), so I figure I can have a traditional wedding dress -- just one that's more simple in design.

I thought I had the dress narrowed down to two choices, but after trying them on a second time and having digital pictures taken of me in them, I decided I looked more like a dressed-up troll and not a princess or soon-to-be blushing bride.

One was a gorgeous, Nicole Miller strapless silk gown with buttons running down the back that almost had me crying while I tried it on, and it wasn't from the price ($1,400). I've always had a sort of vision in my mind of how I wanted my wedding dress to be: silk, clean lines, elegant, no lace, and no beading. The Nicole Miller dress came pretty close to the picture in my head.

I first saw the dress in the store and tried on a sample that was surprisingly close to my size. Later I found online photos of it on the designer's Web site. The dress looked like a silk sack on the model, but I figured the model was your typical stick figure. I thought that I had filled it out nicely.

After a week or two of dreamily thinking of the dress and debating on whether I really wanted to spend that much on a wedding dress, I decided I better try it on again and this time take digital pictures to show my mom and my "Best Woman," both of whom live in the Midwest. Show them that, despite the price tag, it was gorgeous. Good thing I did.

The dress was still stunning on second viewing, but unfortunately the style just wasn't stunning on me. Well, at least one good thing is that I won't be dropping $1,260 for it. (My Best Woman referred me to the Rush's Bridal Web site. They offer free price quotes on wedding and bridesmaid dresses. I could have ordered the dress for $140 less and no sales tax.)

The second dress was also lovely -- and more moderately priced at $650. This one was an empire-waisted chiffon dress with elegant beading in a floral/vine pattern on the v-neck bodice and the hem of the skirt. It came with a matching beaded, detachable train. I found this one at a bridal shop while in search of a different dress, but the sample dress was a couple of sizes too large so I couldn't quite get a good sense of how it would look on me. I found pictures of it online as well, and eventually found a store that had a sample of the dress in my size.

Same story: I tried it on again, making sure to take some pictures this time. Same thought: "I look like a troll." I never really fell in love with this one. I thought it was lovely, but that was all. I didn't have that "Oooh, this is the one!" kind of moment.

So I've started searching all over again.

I've concluded that the above scenarios with the two dresses could have been easily avoided, along with some needless anxiety, if I had done the following:

1. Brought my camera on the first visit.
2. Brought someone with me shopping.
3. Tried to find a store with a sample close to my size.
4. Not listened to sales ladies, who probably get a big, fat commission.

What annoys me is that I find all these lovely dresses online on wedding and designers' Web sites, but I have a hard time finding bridal stores that carry samples of the particular styles I want. One of my next moves is to drive to a shop an hour away in hopes of finding some of the dresses I've seen online.

My wedding is about eight months away. Where is my fairy godmother when I need her?!