Bride Can't Get Her Wedding Dress Because of Skin Color Prejudice — Story of the Day

As Allie plans her dream wedding, her vision board guides her every step. However, when searching for her wedding dress, she encounters prejudice due to her skin color.

Allie flipped through bridal magazines, torn between her desire for cheesy pizza and her commitment to clean eating for glowing skin.

"You're perfect the way you are," her fiance, Scott, had said when she vetoed takeout until the wedding.

"But I want that princess glow," she'd teased him. Scott had suggested getting a tiara in that case and made her smile.

Allie now ran her fingers through her hair. She recalled how she sat between her mother's legs as a kid, getting her hair conditioned and braided.

"Why do we have to do this? It hurts, Mom!" little Allie would complain.

"This way, your hair will grow long and smooth," her mom would reply.

Allie sighed. Her Pinterest vision board reflected her meticulous wedding planning, but the elusive perfect dress remained a stress point.

"Why stressed, Al?" Scott asked.

"Because everything must be perfect," she replied. "I still have to get my dress."

"Go to the bridal boutique on Boulevard. You'll find what you need. Want me to come?"

"That's bad luck, but do you think I'd find the perfect dress there?"

"Definitely. If not, we'll make it perfect. You'll have your perfect day."

"Our perfect day," she grinned.

Scott owned the boutique but wasn't a bridal expert. Allie closed her binder, deciding to bake eclairs. Wondering about adding them to the wedding menu, she called her mom.

"I needed a break from wedding things," Allie explained. "You're flying this weekend, right?"

"I completely forgot," her mom admitted.

"It's okay, Mom. Be here for the final fitting; that's what counts."

"Shall I rush over?" her mom offered.

Allie hesitated, torn between wanting her mom's presence and sparing her stress.

"Save the trip for the final fitting. I love you."

"All right, Peach. Love you too."

Feeling a bit dejected after the call with her mom, Allie wished her scattered bridesmaids could join her fitting. She envisioned a scene with them in the boutique, sipping champagne on a velvet couch.

As she experimented with eclairs, adding strawberries, Allie reflected on her obsession with a clean home. Working remotely as a graphic designer allowed her flexibility, creativity, and attention to detail — skills that also helped her in planning her wedding.

She recalled how Scott was surprised when he saw her wedding vision board. It was mostly pastel with forest green bridesmaid dresses.

"What happened to 'Scott, I like colors'?" he teased.

Allie nervously explained her vision for a classy, casual, and bohemian vibe.

Scott sensed Allie's stress, and he complimented her that she was doing everything perfectly.

***

He happily participated when she involved him, like choosing the song for their first dance. In the kitchen at midnight, making grilled cheese sandwiches, Allie handed him the task.

"You'll be fine with anything I choose?" Scott grinned.

"Just keep it special and romantic," she advised.

***

When the time came for the dress fitting, Scott offered to call ahead and prepare the boutique, but Allie insisted on an authentic experience.

"If you're sure," Scott said, pulling her close.

Allie smiled, appreciating his support amidst the wedding chaos.

As Allie left for the bridal boutique, Scott, determined to make her experience special, discreetly called Sandra, one of the managers. He emphasized the importance of treating all customers equally, maintaining the boutique's warm atmosphere, and ensuring the availability of the best dresses for an anonymous, significant visitor.

"Pour the champagne, keep the tissues ready, ask the stylists to weigh in on dress fittings politely and helpfully," Scott instructed.

Allie, sitting in her car, decided to seek advice from her mom before entering. Her mother, playing Sudoku, offered timeless counsel about dressing for her body, paying attention to fabrics and colors, and watching the cleavage.

"Do you want Reece to throw a fit? Please watch the cleavage!"

"I'm not dressing for my brother," Allie said. "I'm not even dressing for Scott. I'm dressing for myself."

"And that's the only way I'd have it."

"Okay, Mom," she said, ending the call.

Then she texted Scott: "I'm going in!" He replied with several hearts and didn't say much, so she guessed he was busy in a meeting.

Inside the boutique, Allie felt a mix of excitement and calmness. The scent of roses filled the air, and classical music played as she explored the elegant space. Summer, likely a manager, greeted her with a tight smile, but Sandra remained distant.

Alone in her thoughts, Allie found a dress she loved – simple, with lace on the top and a flowing A-line bottom. As she held it up to admire, Sandra abruptly intervened, snatching the hanger away.

"Please don't touch the dress," Sandra instructed.

"Why can't I touch it?" Allie asked, bewildered.

"Once you have paid for it, you can try it on," Sandra said with a fake smile.

"But that makes absolutely no sense," Allie said. "It might not even fit me."

Allie watched as Sandra put the dress back on the rack.

"That's the way it is. It is our policy," Sandra stated with a fake smile before walking away.

Allie scoffed, realizing Sandra's unreasonable behavior was rooted in prejudice. She knew Scott wouldn't endorse such policies and felt the sting of discrimination.

Feeling defeated after Sandra's prejudiced treatment, Allie decided to take a walk to clear her head, treating herself to a donut. Upon returning home, she made dinner for Scott and decided not to disclose her unpleasant experience at the boutique.

"I found my dress, picking it up tomorrow," she lied to Scott, who offered his card.

"Let me at least sort out my wedding dress by myself," she insisted.

The next morning, Allie focused on work before heading to the boutique. Wondering if Scott had chosen their first dance song, she imagined her wedding look as she drove. Upon arrival, she intended to pay for the dress promptly.

"Here you go," Allie told Sandra, placing $3500 on the counter.

However, Sandra claimed the dress was now $ 5,000 due to an expired promotion, even though they had agreed on the lower price the day before. Allie felt defeated, realizing the treatment was likely influenced by her skin color.

Suddenly, she looked up toward the fitting rooms and saw a young woman waiting for another to come out. Her friend threw back the curtain and pushed her way out.

"What do you think?" the bride asked, showing off her dress.

"It's not bad, Bella. But I like the first one better," she said.

"This one definitely seems less pretentious, no? Which is what I wanted, to be honest!"

Allie took a step forward and watched them. She didn't realize that Sandra had followed her.

"What does this mean?" she asked Sandra. "Explain to me how some people can try on dresses and others cannot?"

"These girls are our regular customers," Sandra explained dismissively.

"Excuse me?" Bella said. "I'm not a regular. This is my first time here! Please don't make me a divorcee. This is also my first marriage!"

Sandra laughed awkwardly. Allie could see that she was trying her hardest to protect herself.

"So, let's get this straight. You're not letting me try on this ridiculously overpriced dress, but you are also just lying straight to my face."

"Look, don't make me—" Sandra began.

"Get me the other manager now," Allie said, sitting on the couch.

Sandra narrowed her eyes at Allie.

"Fine," she said.

Bella called Sandra to take the dress that she had just changed out of.

"So, how about a discount?" Bella asked Sandra. "You know, because I'm a regular customer."

Sandra gave them a stern look. "Not on this dress, no," she said.

Allie shook her head. She was definitely going to tell Scott all about this.

"Hello, my name is Martin," a man said next to Allie. "I am the manager of this boutique. Well, the first-choice manager, anyway."

"Hi," said Allie and stood up. "I found a dress that I loved, and of course, I hoped to try it on. But your co-manager or employee, whatever she—"

"Yes, yes, yes, I am aware of the situation. And I do apologize for this misunderstanding," Martin interrupted, offering a solution. He suggested having an employee, Irene, try on the dress for Allie.

"Why can't I just try my own dress on, just like the way the other girl did in front of me?"

"It would be much less risky, you know," Martin claimed.

"No, Martin. I don't know," Allie retorted, frustrated with the absurdity.

"For me," Martin said. "It will be less risky for me, the boutique, and the dress."

Irene enthusiastically offered to try on the dress, and despite Allie's reluctance, she eventually agreed to the unusual arrangement. Why? Because it was the dress she wanted for her wedding, and she knew these people wouldn't let her try it on.

Allie watched Irene model the dress, realizing there was a size difference. She agreed to provide her measurements on her own because Sandra refused to measure her. Of course, the reason was Allie's skin color.

Three weeks later, Allie returned to the boutique with Scott, who was waiting outside. Irene appeared in the dress, but the dress looked identical to how it looked on the day Allie chose it. And judging by how it fit Irene, there were no alterations!

"I don't know if I like the dress," she said. "It's really hard for me to tell since Irene is a different body size and type compared to me."

"What are you implying here?" Irene asked.

"I am not implying anything, Irene. I'm just saying that you and I have different measurements, so it's a different situation."

"But we made it strictly to the measurements you gave us," Sandra chipped in.

"This is also why it would have been more logical for me to try the dress on," Allie said. "I don't want to pay for this!"

Martin, growing frustrated, emphasized the store's efforts in alterations and accommodating Allie's requests. He insisted that not paying for the dress would be a loss for the store, something he couldn't allow.

Allie, feeling overwhelmed, confronted Martin about the discriminatory treatment. As tensions rose, he accused her of planning to steal the dress.

"I wasn't going to steal anything!" Allie exclaimed.

Martin responded callously, stating, "All of you are potential thieves."

"All of you?" Allie repeated. "Now you're not even trying to hide your racism."

Their argument escalated, leading Martin to give Allie an ultimatum – leave, or he'd call the police. Reluctantly, she chose to leave.

"And don't ever show up here again!" Martin shouted, calling security.

Right then, Scott arrived on the scene. Martin falsely claimed Allie was attempting theft, and Sandra joined in, stating they had already dealt with the situation.

"Yes, honey. Can you imagine I won't be allowed in your store anymore?" Allie said.

"Woah, woah, woah. What?" Scott asked. He looked from Allie to his employees and then back to Allie.

"Can someone please explain why my fiancée cannot get her dress? Or why is she being threatened never to enter my store again?"

"He also said a lot of nasty things to me. They all did. And they wouldn't even let me try a dress on," Allie said. Now that Scott was here, she felt a lot braver.

"Fiancée?" Martin asked. "But she didn't tell us that…We didn't know."

"You didn't ask anything about me or my wedding. You let my skin color do the talking."

"I have no words to express how sorry I am, Allie," Scott said. "I created this wedding boutique to help every woman feel special. And then my fiancée came in, and you made her feel the complete opposite," Scott sighed and fired his employees.

"Now, go. Go pick any dress you want. I'll wait outside," Scott told Allie.

"No, we can do that tomorrow. Let's go home," Allie smiled, relieved to leave the distressing situation behind.

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