Apparel, Fashion, Wedding

Dress Up


In a fantasy world, where I don’t have to sew my little fingers to the bone. Reem Acra, “Heavenly Lace,” at Gabriella NYC. Singlet tan not included.

Nick is coming back from his trip today, which means that my dress is having to give up its prime real estate (aka all of the living room). It is now safely tucked into a big white garment bag, and will hopefully not be seen by my groom until our wedding day.

As I’ve mentioned before, the dress has not been a secret from Nick until this point. He has actually been my main fitting assistant, very patiently and sweetly following my directions in pinning it closed and marking the parts I can’t get to. He’s seen me cutting appliqués, pinning lace, and draping skirts. I’ve asked his opinion on sketches and color. So he’s got an idea, to say the least.

But as I’ve been working on it the past couple weeks, it’s started to change and transform- the way dresses do- from abstract pattern pieces and haphazardly draped tulle into something real. Something a person could actually wear. Something a person- me- WILL actually wear. And so, the time for sharing is over.

I also am starting to experience a bit of design fatigue. It happened literally overnight- I was super pleased and proud of the dress on Monday; on Tuesday, I started doubting every decision I’ve ever made, both dress and non-dress related. Let me tell if you- if the old adage about a bride crying the same number of tears as stitches she puts into her wedding dress, I’m in very, very big trouble. I am really starting to flag on hand-sewing. So sometimes, you just have to be able to step away for a week or three, and come back to it with fresh eyes. But even now, as I’m staring at the zipped-up garment bag, I’m sort of itching to open it up and just, you know, do a few more things. Add some more sparkles. Rearrange lace. Start over.

Down, girl.

I’ve been having a lot of dress dreams lately. My favorite- and most stressful- was one where I was standing with my bridesmaids right before the wedding in my dress. Well- kind of my dress. It was my dress as it existed 3 weeks ago- all pinned, no lining, no zipper. I told them, “It’s ok, start going down the aisle, I’m just going to finish this up real quick.” Even in the dream, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. But I’m impressed with my dream self’s optimism and can-do spirit. That’s how I knew it wasn’t real.

In real life, the dress still doesn’t have a zipper or a skirt lining or a hem, but I can take solace in the fact that, if the wedding was indeed tomorrow, I could have someone slipstitch me closed, a la Marilyn Monroe, and it would be fine. Not perfect, but fine. And that’s a beautiful thing.