I have finished crafting my dress. Although I may have to do some final fitting closer to that hot day in August, I am actually feeling accomplished and studly. I fussed, I cut, and I conquered. Well, there was more than that involved, of course, but let’s just say that 8 yards of ivory-colored organic cotton, some ivory thread, vintage handmade cotton lace and a 14 inch zipper smooshed themselves together and I now have The Dress. There were no magic mice or birds swooping in to hold up the shoulder seams, but it seems a little magical nonetheless.
It was not a process without blood (from all the times I pricked myself with pins and needles), sweat (as I burst into a hot flash while ironing the hem on all those yards of cotton) and tears (ripping out misplaced pleats and refitting a sleeve), not to mention several curse words and a mantra or two of self encouragement.
Not only do I have the Dress, but I also have a very fun crinoline petticoat and a sturdy strapless bra that would make the late Jane Russell coo with approval. Armed with my foundation garments
AND the summer weight cotton, I am experiencing a great sigh of relief. Now, the Dress does not make me look like a svelte 23-year-old, but I can almost bet if it did, Teri wouldn’t have anything to do with me. What it does do is it feels like me; it fits the woman that I am at this point in my life: sturdy calves and flubbery arms, freckled cleavage and a dedicated commitment to marry the woman of my dreams.
As for the woman of my dreams…she is NOT ready to embark on the quest for her dress yet and I confessed to her I’m a little disappointed. There is a part of me who wanted to share in the dress hunt and have dual try-on parties in the multi-mirrored fitting rooms. Of course, we are back to that different pacing
AND the fact that Teri wants me to butt out of her dress process and allow her to seek, find, and conquer on her own terms!