I think that I have imagined and had help imagining the perfect dress. Is it so sad to be in love with an inanimate object?
It would be a soft gray, with light silver panels. No metallic colors, just soft, like those of the mourning dove. A slight shimmering sheen would make it glow in the light, draping and swooping down.
Why does reality have to be so boring? I definitely sympathize with Anne of Green Gables. Imagining is so much better than living with a stark vision of the world.