I am the middle daughter. My sisters are a year and a half apart from me on either side. We would always play together, and we would play our favorite thing, which was Barbies. My sisters' Barbies would always do stuff, like go to the movies, ride horses or drive in cars, but all my Barbie ever wanted to do was stay home, not talk, and change dresses all the time. I would change them and change them and change them. [Recently] when a bride mentioned to me in the store, "This must be so much fun," I told her the story, and I just realized: I guess this is what I was destined to do, changing the dresses all the time. I've been doing it ever since. In a way, I guess, I'm still playing Barbies.
It's funny the things that you think about in your presentation to the customer. I've worn 4- or 5-inch heels every single day. And I'm on my feet on Saturdays all day long, eight hours, 10 hours, in high heels. The brides will look and go, "Gosh, don't your feet hurt?" Well, yes, my feet hurt so bad I can't sleep at night, but I want to gain their respect the minute they see me--so that when I help pick out a dress they know I do have a sense of fashion and that it's important for me to look good for them. I'm not doing it because it feels good, believe me. I go home on Saturdays, and I have to soak my feet before I can do anything else.
This is so stupid, but I wear my wedding band on Saturdays because I don't want the brides to know I'm divorced. I do it just to let them know I believe in the institution of marriage, and I just don't want them thinking: Divorce. [My boyfriend] thinks it's hilarious. He's like, "I can't believe that that makes a bit of difference." I'm like, "It does." In conversation, they find out I have kids, they're not seeing a wedding band, I'm selling wedding gowns ... The institution of marriage is what I'm supposed to be promoting. And to be divorced, you know, I just don't think they need to know that. Just keep them focused on marriage. I'd rather if they think that marriage is forever.
-- Interview by Patricia Murret