Self-Imposed Dress Drama

One of the inevitable choices of the wedding ceremony is "What to wear?" I imagine that while Teri and I are dealing with some unique challenges, they have more to do with our age than our lesbian-ness. Let's face it, not only is the wedding industry totally geared toward straight-os, it is also a young girl's game. We are neither, of course, and while there is something very liberating about that, there are also some challenges!

When we had the initial conversation, Teri was very clear that she wanted to wear a dress--an an ivory-hued one at that. Okay, I said, "I'll wear a dress too! We'll both wear ivory-colored dresses of our choosing." That part was the easy part. Equally easy was the decision for what all of our best folk would wear: for the gals--gem-tone dresses of their choosing (summery, not-shiny, cocktail to tea-length and each one chose a different jewel-color) and for the groomsmen: summery khaki trousers with an oxford or cotton shirt of their color choosing and possibly a jewel-tone, solid-color tie. We told everyone to think "summer garden party!" But no one told us to think "middle-age, lesbian, outdoor garden wedding..."

My imagination dreamt up the dress I want to wear and then the drama came when I tried to figure out how to turn my dream dress into reality. Needless to say, I have spent a year fussing about it. After searching high and low, I finally decided that I would sew it myself. While I DO have the sewing skills, I do NOT love to sew, which means I am feeling some trepidation over the process (and I've been pretty darn vocal about it, which has caused several people to ask me why, on earth, am I going to do it? "Why don't you hire a seamstress?" Seriously? No way, this has become my determined quest!")

Yesterday, on my birthday-day-off, I finally sorted all the pattern pieces, pinned them to the fabric, and cut out all the puzzle pieces that I hope will become my dream dress. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe and only caught myself holding my breath in tightly-clenched jaw about twelve times throughout the process. It is a vintage pattern, so there are LOTS of pieces and plenty of fabric (that's how those luscious skirts had such a fine drape)--there will be complicated pleats, and a fitted bodice; there will be collars and lining and plenty of other tortuous tasks to keep my self-imposed dress drama alive.

The truth is, it has all been my choice; I made up the challenges and I am holding on to the intention that, in the end, it will all be worth it. Not to mention, I may learn to relax and embrace the challenge in the process. Hmmm...another marriage metaphor maybe?