Will Kate Middleton's dress be the stuff of fairy tales?

Wedding dresses, wedding dresses, wedding dresses.

Preoccupation over what Kate Middleton will wear when she and Prince William wed Friday is reaching a fever pitch.

The Hamilton Collection is taking pre-orders on its figurine of the future princess. Its ad touts a sneak preview of her gown, but the dress pictured is only an artist's rendition.

ABC's "Good Morning America," InStyle magazine and other media have tried to piece together clues about who the top-secret designer is.

And www.InStyle.com offers virtual paper dolls, gowns, shoes, jewels and tiaras with which you can create your own vision of Middleton as a bride.

I hope she shocks the world and steps out in a pantsuit.

I know, I know. Popular thought is that wedding dresses are supposed to symbolize the stuff of fairy- tales. The bridal gown became the centerpiece of weddings when Queen Victoria stepped out in an extravagant white dress with a train carried by bridesmaids. It was a seismic fashion statement that shifted Western women's mindset of selecting something slightly a step up from "Sunday best" to a dress that would conceivably make Zeus drop his thunderbolt.

Matter of fact, the dress is almost bigger than the wedding itself. Ever seen an episode of TLC's "Say Yes to the Dress"?

And then there's the hullabaloo over wedding gowns now being sold at select Costcos (but not in Hampton Roads). Some bridal consultants have said that buying a gown at a retail warehouse will diminish the bridal experience, not to mention (gasp!) that the dresses are mass market.

Big deal. The woman in the dress is supposed to be what makes it sing. Who is going to weddings often enough to recognize that a dozen women across a handful of cities may have the same dress?

Not only would I buy my gown at Costco, I'd buy one at a gas station if I thought I could reconstruct it into a piece all my own. I have three, and that doesn't include the get-up I wore when I eloped in college. I'm not sure what I was thinking in my cheerleader camp T-shirt, purple stonewashed jeans and California Grapevine sneakers.

But, of course, as soon as I kissed the frog, my eyes were opened, and I wanted a dress. At an anniversary ceremony a couple of years later, I wore a gown that I'd gotten a master seamstress to modify from a pattern. I loved the cascading skirt that exposed the knees, but I felt bad that my "bridesmaids" wore dresses made out of material for lining that I'd naively purchased and taken to be satin.

Anyhoo, that young love wasn't threaded tightly. When my real knight in shining armor came along and we were ready to wed, I felt humble and wanted to keep everything within reason.

I came across a charming, sleeveless ivory gown embellished with discreet gold brocade throughout. It was just $50 on the formalwear clearance rack at Dillard's. One of my best girls helped me make a train out of shimmering gold tulle. I took my pre-wedding portraits in the gown and was set.

That is, until just a week before the wedding. I was out driving and spotted a gown in a window at an upscale bridal boutique. It looked as if the dress had my name on it. To be sure, I made a U-turn.

O-M-G. The simple lines with the distinctive Vera Wang- inspired detailing made it the dress. No matter that it cost my entire week's salary. No matter that the shop owner and her seamstress thought it would be impossible to alter the dress in time.

It was nothing short of a miracle that I got that gown. I was still wearing it after the reception when I went to McDonald's. Hey, I was hungry. The photographer had made off with the food before I could get seconds, fixing numerous plates that he took to his family. There was nothing left but the top of the cake.

I didn't really care. I had my dress, I had my prince, and I was happy.

In the end, I just hope Miss Kate gets what she wants and is happy.

Maybe she can demonstrate she has the essence of Queen Victoria in setting trends. Because of her fashion sensibility, perhaps she won't feel compelled to walk down the aisle in a bouffant concoction a la Lady Di. Perhaps she has been inspired by the gnawing away at the edges of royal regalia and will don a look that strikes a balance among formality, fantasy and practicality.

That's a lot to hang on a dress, especially when the world comes apart at the seams over a wedding fit for a queen.

Jamesetta M. Walker, (757) 446-2211, jamesetta.walker@pilotonline.com