Bride & Groom #005

Before the storefront, before the fittings and the market trips, there was a quiet sense of calling. Not loud or strategic—just steady, faithful steps that led to something lasting.

They didn’t begin with a master plan: no pitch deck, no textbook strategy, no five-year blueprint. What they discovered instead was something quieter but more compelling: a sense of alignment they couldn’t ignore.

After getting married in 2011, Corie and Blaine were simply having a conversation when an opportunity opened up unexpectedly. With a fresh business license in hand, they set off for New York Bridal Market, unsure of what would unfold but open to what might. Midway through that trip, they received a call: Danny Lollar was ready to sell his long-standing tuxedo shop, House of Tux, which had been serving the area since 1973. It wasn’t something they had been pursuing, but the timing felt right, and in 2012, they said yes.

They didn’t have much money and no fallback plan, but they had each other and a circle of family and friends who showed up in quiet, consistent ways. Some offered wisdom, others lent helping hands, and a few still work alongside them today. This beginning wasn’t built on projections or polished business models. It was built on people, and perhaps something even more foundational: the unseen hand of grace guiding the right doors to open.

At first, the dream was about flexibility: a chance to own a dress shop, to create a different pace of life. But time has a way of revealing what you really sign up for. For Corie and Blaine, the business became something more than a storefront. It became a space where presence matters, where attention speaks louder than strategy, and where care is something you practice, not perform.

They meet people where they are, and it shows. Customers walk in carrying more than questions about fabric or fit; some bring hesitation, others carry stress. What they find is a team that’s steady, thoughtful, and willing to slow down. That kind of steadiness doesn’t usually come from ambition alone. It often grows in people who are being shaped by something deeper than success.

Over time, that presence has only deepened. We’ve seen how becoming parents often reshapes the way people serve, how it adds patience, empathy, and a quiet kind of resilience. In Corie and Blaine’s leadership, that same steadiness is easy to recognize. It’s in the way they pay closer attention, noticing when someone is overwhelmed, even without words; offering space instead of pressure; and holding people gently in high-stakes moments.

Their store has quietly become a place where people feel more like themselves, where moments of confidence return, and where someone who expected to settle instead finds something that truly fits, both emotionally and practically. It doesn’t always happen through grand gestures, but the impact is there, and it lingers in ways that can’t always be explained.

Nothing in the store is chosen at random. Every dress, tuxedo, and display is hand-selected with intention. When they travel to markets, they carry the memory of their customers with them: names, personalities, stories. They might say, "This would be perfect for Lacy," or, "Betty would shine in this color," as they move through market selections. Their inventory isn’t on consignment. It’s personal. It’s invested. It’s deliberate.

Behind the scenes, they manage it all: payroll, fittings, logistics, follow-ups. They’ve outgrown the space they started in, but they haven’t rushed the process. Growth has been steady, thoughtful, and guided more by meaning than momentum. And in that, there’s a quiet reminder that some of the most fruitful things grow slow and deep.

Their team reflects that same heartbeat. Some have been with them for over a decade. The culture they’ve built is one of clarity, consistency, and care. When someone no longer aligns with those values, they part ways with grace. But those who stay? They build something lasting, carrying the same attentiveness customers notice the moment they walk in.

In 2023, they opened The Prom Shop on Main Street, an extension of their mission to celebrate people through personal service and hand-selected pieces. What began as a response to growing demand has become a trusted space for milestone moments beyond weddings, from proms to pageants to formal events.

People often say, “It feels like your team is on commission.” They’re not. They’re simply that invested. The goal has never been the sale. It’s always been the experience. And that commitment is felt.

You see it in the woman who cries because she finally likes what she sees in the mirror. In the mom who didn’t expect to find a dress within her budget, and leaves beaming. In the groom who stands a little taller, not because of the fabric, but because someone took the time to help him feel sharp and seen.

They don’t just help people look good. They help them feel ready, confident and comfortable, especially in moments that often carry more weight than what’s visible on the surface. And perhaps that’s part of the deeper calling in all of this: to meet people in quiet need and reflect something more hopeful back.

What Corie and Blaine have built is rare: a place where people feel seen, not sold to. Where kindness isn’t a tactic. It’s the tone. That doesn’t happen by accident. It happens through consistency, through quiet leadership, and through the kind of care that can’t be faked because it’s lived. And for those paying close attention, it’s not hard to sense that something greater is at work.

The Bride & Groom isn’t just a store. It’s a reflection of what becomes possible when a team leads with intention, chooses presence over pressure, and stays rooted in the people they serve. Whether or not it’s named, what’s been cultivated here carries a kind of light that points beyond itself.