Several months ago, a few of my tweeps posted pictures of their wedding days just for fun. Those wedding days ranged from having been just a handful of years ago to, oh, let's just say, a lot longer. I raced through my house to find my wedding album so I could play along...only to discover my wedding album was nowhere to be found. I blamed my daughter--it was, after all, only a few weeks away from our 25th anniversary so I suspected she had made off with it to do some sort of scrapbook or something.
Nope. It was just buried in our basement. My husband found it tonight. Yay! So, here's a sampling of my wedding pictures--which are, actually, of interest for a quilt blog. You'll see why in a minute.
October 17, 1987
Me and my husband following the ceremony. I know he looks 15, but he was quite legal,, honest. (I was 22, he was almost 25.)
Me and my mom. Yes, that's the mom to whom my podcast is dedicated: Shirley, the one who taught me (a decade or so after these pictures) to quilt.
She made my dress, my veil, and all of my bridesmaids' dresses. I had drawn out on a napkin what I wanted them all to look like, and she figured it out from there.
If you look closely, you may be able to see that the bodice of my dress is hand-quilted. By Mom. (She also used scraps from my dress and made a crazy-quilt-style cover for our card box at the wedding reception--also hand-quilted. I kept that box for years until it got water-damaged and had to be tossed. It was beautiful.)
When I say Mom made all of my bridesmaids' dresses, I mean ALL OF MY BRIDESMAIDS. Yes, I had a boatload of them.
The three on my right in the picture are my sisters. The three on the left are friends. My fourth sister officiated the wedding and isn't in this picture.
I still remember hitting several Joanns in a row with Mom to find enough of the pink fabric for all the dresses. It was quite a search.
And here's proof that Mom did, indeed, make the dresses. Still making alterations 10 minutes before we were about to walk down the aisle.
I think she was only smiling for the camera. I don't recall that much hilarity about it at the time. But still, she was a trooper, and very patient with young adult women who wanted everything to be skin tight.
So here's the funny thing: after Mom had the dresses all made, she said, "You realize, don't you, that your gown is almost a dead ringer for my wedding gown?" She'd worn a very similar wedding gown herself, 30-some-odd years prior. I had seen her gown at some point in my childhood when we were playing dress-up but I'd forgotten that completely; apparently the image stuck in my head as being what wedding gowns are supposed to be.
Thanks, Mom, for everything. I certainly appreciated it then, but I don't think I appreciated it as much as I do now that I know what hard work that is!
Nope. It was just buried in our basement. My husband found it tonight. Yay! So, here's a sampling of my wedding pictures--which are, actually, of interest for a quilt blog. You'll see why in a minute.
October 17, 1987
Me and my husband following the ceremony. I know he looks 15, but he was quite legal,, honest. (I was 22, he was almost 25.)
Me and my mom. Yes, that's the mom to whom my podcast is dedicated: Shirley, the one who taught me (a decade or so after these pictures) to quilt.
She made my dress, my veil, and all of my bridesmaids' dresses. I had drawn out on a napkin what I wanted them all to look like, and she figured it out from there.
If you look closely, you may be able to see that the bodice of my dress is hand-quilted. By Mom. (She also used scraps from my dress and made a crazy-quilt-style cover for our card box at the wedding reception--also hand-quilted. I kept that box for years until it got water-damaged and had to be tossed. It was beautiful.)
The three on my right in the picture are my sisters. The three on the left are friends. My fourth sister officiated the wedding and isn't in this picture.
I still remember hitting several Joanns in a row with Mom to find enough of the pink fabric for all the dresses. It was quite a search.
And here's proof that Mom did, indeed, make the dresses. Still making alterations 10 minutes before we were about to walk down the aisle.
I think she was only smiling for the camera. I don't recall that much hilarity about it at the time. But still, she was a trooper, and very patient with young adult women who wanted everything to be skin tight.
So here's the funny thing: after Mom had the dresses all made, she said, "You realize, don't you, that your gown is almost a dead ringer for my wedding gown?" She'd worn a very similar wedding gown herself, 30-some-odd years prior. I had seen her gown at some point in my childhood when we were playing dress-up but I'd forgotten that completely; apparently the image stuck in my head as being what wedding gowns are supposed to be.
Thanks, Mom, for everything. I certainly appreciated it then, but I don't think I appreciated it as much as I do now that I know what hard work that is!