Thursday, October 24, 2013

Wedding Dress...


My Beloved and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary recently(ish). It sort of disappeared in a haze of sickness. I believe we ordered takeout. But there was sunny weather, and the morning sickness means that for the first time in a long time I'm back to my pre-kids weight (almost) - but anyway, it occurred to me to try on my wedding dress again.
Which is strange, because the thing about my wedding dress is that when we got married I was seven months pregnant. However, I wanted to see how much it needs to be taken in again if my Poppet decides to wear it for her wedding or my Sprocket's future spouse decides on it, or if I decide to wear it for our ten-year -anniversary/sort-of-second-wedding/but-not-so-chaotic-when-I'm-not-gigantically- pregnant-and-can-drink-champagne.
I always knew that I wanted to wear the dress my mum and her mum wore. It's changed a lot since my grandmother wore it.


 My Granny, Valerie East, Marrying George Yule

                                                                                                                                          
 Granny and Grandad in the garden on their Silver Wedding Anniversary

When Granny wore it, it had a little Peter Pan collar and long sleeves. When Mum married, the dress was posted over to England.

Mum, in Cambridge. The Peter Pan collar had gone and the sleeves had been shortened.

I tried it on periodically through all my teen years, and although there was a gorgeous Edwardian dress my Great Granny had worn that I occasionally considered, I loved that this dress had been worn by my mum and my grandmother, and that we were all the firstborn, eldest girls.
Of course, I knew when my beloved and I started trying for a baby shortly after we announced our engagement, that the dress might not fit quite so well with a baby bump. But in my (enormous) naievety I expected a. The baby would be instantly conceived and therefore born before the wedding - and that I would instantly shrink back to pre-baby size. and b. even if I was pregnant for the wedding, I would have a gorgeous little bump, while the rest of me stayed the same size.
Um. No.  While yes, I was sick during the first twelve weeks, after that I was radiantly healthy... and hungry.  Very, very hungry. Forget eating for two, I ate for three or four. The seamstress worked a miracle to get the dress to fit, and I will be forever grateful.
The dress is shorter now - material was taken from the hem to increase the sides, the neck made yet lower. The bust is considerably larger. To resize it will take a bit of work. (You might notice in the photo at the top that my hand is behind my back, pulling the dress in, and that the material is quite lose around the bust...) But it means so much that I wore the family dress, and I can't help hoping, just a leetle bit, that my Poppet wears it someday too. (Although of course if she decides to never marry or wear something entirely different that's fine too!)



3 comments:

  1. this is why when i see someone see their dress i cringe a little. the handing down of something so beautiful is so much more than a dress. lovely. xx

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  2. I love knowing that something has been handed down, and is full of story and meaning. It seems to make something so much more special! I have a tendency to prefer old stuff to new, but things full of family stories are my very favourite!

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  3. What a marvellous post... and a wonderful story, lovely photos. I hope your daughter might chose to wear it too... so meaningful to know the history. I lovedmy mum's wedding dress as a girl... we've never quite managed to get married (I blame the kids) but I'd never have fitted mum's dress, she had a 22 inch waist!!

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