BRIDAL BEDLAM Budget-priced gown sale attracts masses

Team strategy worked for some groups eager to find "The Dress."
LOS ANGELES TIMES
Pamplona has its bulls. And Filene's Basement has its brides.
"Position yourselves at each end of the racks so they don't topple over when the customers start grabbing the dresses off them," store manager Judy Barr instructed dozens of employees inside the discount clothing store's Chelsea outpost on Aug. 1.
Meanwhile, massing in an impatient line on Sixth Avenue were eager Cinderellas and their retinues of mothers, sisters, future sisters-in-law, assorted friends and fashion-savvy relatives, all awaiting New York City's first-ever Filene's Basement Bridal Gown Sale.
On your mark, get set
For the nuptially inclined, the Boston-based chain's bridal-gown events have become the stuff of legend: Brides-to-be queue up hours before the doors open at 8 a.m., honing their strategies for snagging a designer wedding gown for the rock-bottom price of $249. A sale at the Boston store was scheduled for Aug. 15; Chicago had its turn exactly one week later.
A half-hour before the Manhattan sale kicked off, the line snaked around the corner onto 18th Street. And at the appointed hour, the glass doors opened, igniting a stampede for tulle trains and beaded bodices. Charging at the 1,100 dresses, women clasped them by the armful.
And, then, within two minutes, the metal racks were bare -- as were many of the brides, who stripped down to bikini bottoms or body suits.
"I got it!" exclaimed 16-year-old Julia Falzone as she jumped into a 3-foot-high pile of dresses. Julia had tagged along to help her cousin, Gia Giandomenico, 24, of Cherry Hill, N.J., find The Dress.
"Size 10, 8 or 12, strapless dress" read a sign pinned to the back of Giandomenico's aunt, Dolores Falzone of South Philadelphia. She, along with Giandomenico's mother, Vera, and another cousin and friend, composed the support team who helped gather, critique and guard the dresses.
Team strategy
Some shoppers took their strategizing seriously. Gesette Del Santo, 24, of Somers, N.Y., and her cousin Jennifer Del Santo, 27, of Wilton, Conn., got up at 2 a.m. to be the first in line at the downtown store. "We're the Orange Team," said the younger woman, pointing to the tangerine-hued bandanas worn by everyone in the seven-person group, which included her 15-year-old brother, Jonathan.
Team Orange wasn't fooling around: They had called the store in advance to learn the layout, and carried walkie-talkies set on vibrate. In anticipation of alterations to come, Gesette had old-fashioned wooden clothespins clipped to her shorts, ready to cinch a waist or hike a hem.
Over on the other side of the store, the Red Team from Long Island was intent on finding wedding dresses for Marsha Pierre-Jacques, 23, who grew up in Elmont and now lives in Boston, and her friend Marsha Wainwright, 24, of Rockaway.
In her bright-red shirt, the younger Marsha's sister, Carlyne Pierre-Jacques, 25, of Elmont, was the group's reconnaissance pilot, periodically scouring the store for castoffs, or for successful shoppers who were abandoning their coveted piles of dresses.
"You guys keep giving them away and being nice -- you have to play the game," she admonished, pointing out that one of the cardinal rules of the Filene's basement bridal sale was that rejected gowns are not relinquished: Instead, they are held as bartering chips. And, indeed, throughout the morning, wild-eyed brides wandered the aisles, clutching dresses and asking, "You have anything to trade for a strapless?"
The Holy Grail of gowns
While the Filene's Basement sale had plenty of familiar bridal-magazine names, from Demetrios to Jessica McClintock, the Holy Grail for many shoppers was a Carolina Herrera. (Vera Wang, while reverently intoned, never materialized.) The designer names are never advertised, and the dresses come from various sources, including canceled orders or store liquidations.
In the mad rush, the Giandomenico camp had snagged at least three Herreras, and, in the end, the bride bought one: a sleeveless V-neck gown that looked about a size too big. But the store's seamstresses assured her it could be altered, and the beaded bodice made strapless. The dress was twice as expensive as the advertised sale price -- a handful of the very high-end dresses were tagged $499 -- but it was a bargain, nonetheless.
"It's easily a $5,000 dress," said Vera Giandomenico, adding that she had called around to bridal shops to inquire about the asking price for a Herrera. "Her simplest designs start at $4,000."
After two hours, the swirl of brides had abated a little, and Red Team's luck changed for the better. In her ubiquitous travels, Carlyne Pierre-Jacques found a plain, off-white Carolina Herrera for Marsha Wainwright, who otherwise had planned to buy the first dress she had tried on.
As for the other Marsha, she found two dresses --- a pleated tulle gown with a heart-shaped bodice, and a straight-line number. Rather than trying to decide between the pair, she bought them both.
At last report, the industrious bride was contemplating another union -- between the top of one dress and the bottom of the other, with a seamstress officiating.