Tessa Tookes had already gone wedding dress shopping once, but nothing compared to a gown she found while scrolling through Instagram. When the 28-year-old NYC-based model discovered a boutique that carried the dress, she traveled to Ontario, Canada, to try it on.
“It really felt like that ‘Say Yes to the Dress’ moment that I was looking for,” said Tookes, who met her fiancé, Joey Kirchner, on season two of “Bachelor in Paradise Canada,” which premiered in 2023. “But then the conversation took a turn.”
As Tookes stood on the pedestal in her dream dress, the boutique employees grabbed two brown-colored breast cups. The cups already built into the dress were beige, or “nude” — and free — but if she wanted the undergarments of the dress to match her skin color, she’d have to pay an extra $200.
The experience immediately took Tookes back to her highschool dance performances, she said, when she had to “pancake” her pink ballet shoes with foundation and dye her “nude” tights with tea bags to match her skin.
“I just received the information in silence and defaulted to being uncomfortable,” Tookes, who was the only person of color in the store at the time, told USA TODAY. “I was not acutely aware of my blackness until [that moment.] It was incredibly isolating, and I felt very othered.”
This is not an isolated incident, even in 2024 as many fashion and beauty brands make strides in inclusivity, according to Mariel Buqué, psychologist and author of “Break the Cycle: A Guide to Healing Intergenerational Trauma.”
“It sends a clear message that darker-skinned women are seen as an ‘other’ and afterthought in the industry,” Buqué said. “This can cause emotional injuries that impact a bride’s joy about such an important event in her life, her self-esteem and her sense of worthiness — deleterious effects that can even last far beyond her big day.”
A video of Tooke’s fiancé describing the incident has garnered more than 3 million views and over 709,000 comments, some of which came from Black wedding dress designers offering to professionally dye the cups for free or custom make her dress altogether. In the expletive-filled video, Kirchner demands wedding dress designers take note, “You should be called out,” he says firmly, pointing at the camera. “Figure it out.”
The boutique in question contacted Tookes after seeing the video and offered to pay for the wedding dress in full, which Tookes thought was generous but “didn’t necessarily get at the heart of the issue.”
In hindsight, Tookes said that she could have spoken up in the moment, but she wanted to avoid becoming a “bridezilla.” Plus, it shouldn’t be her responsibility to do so: “To have to defend your skin tone just doesn’t feel fair.”
Women didn’t hold back from voicing their solidarity online. Some shared similar experiences at bridal boutiques, while others were shocked that employees in Tookes’ scenario even felt comfortable enough to mention the upcharge.
But it’s OK to feel at a loss for words in this situation, Buqué says, despite wanting to speak up.
“When we experience an event that makes us feel like we don’t belong or aren’t seen, it can make us emotionally freeze. Know that even a response of immobility is not your fault nor the wrong response,” Buqué said. “It’s simply the way your body figured out to protect you through a hurtful circumstance. And when this type of experience is the norm, which is the case for Black women, immobility is even more possible.”
Buqué encourages women to voice their discomfort and concerns if they wish, but she said it’s important to prioritize well-being first. “And always remember to mentally recite that you matter, that your skin color is beautiful and worthy of being recognized and equally catered to.”
It’s just as helpful to go home and reflect on what happened with people you trust and love. That’s what Tookes did when, about a week later, she answered a text from her future mother-in-law about the dress appointment. Then, she told her fiancé .
“That’s when I actually accepted and acknowledged how the experience made me feel,” said Tookes, who was pleasantly surprised to find such a “wonderful community online” offering support.
“To be seen and heard with little effort and explanation, is healing in itself,” Buqué said, “and can be a strong antidote against the discrimination suffered.”
Katheleen Isaac, psychotherapist and owner of HEAL’D, a psychotherapy and racial literacy consulting practice, said Tookes’ experience is “reflective of where we are in society,” but it can help spur necessary change.
“Hopefully this is an opportunity for all industries to be more thoughtful about how they can make their products, spaces and environments more inclusive,” Isaac said. “It’s unfortunate that we still have to contend with these issues. It may seem like a minor thing, but it can be really major for people who have these experiences.”
For now, Tookes said that she has left her wedding dress mess up “in the air.” Although she already paid a deposit on the gown after opting for the “nude” cups that she had planned to dye on her own, she’s now considering working with one of the many Black designers who reached out to make a gown for her. “It just feels a lot more aligned with my feelings on the matter and wanting to support and uplift this community of women.”
And for other brides of color who may be worried about confronting similar situations, Tookes has some advice: “I think we’re all aware of the potential experiences we could have in terms of not feeling like our skin colors and bodies are represented in these environments. But consider splurging for a positive and magical wedding dress shopping experience, and go in with the expectation that you may have to advocate for yourself.”
