After sitting with my girlfriends over coffee and talking dramatically about ‘oh god no money’ and ‘oh man so bad at budgeting,’ I happened to walk past my favourite little boutique. And you know that feeling when your knees go weak and your heart starts beating like crazy. That’s what happened because – new shoes, new dresses, new beautiful fabulous sexy impossible to resist summer clothing.

I totally forgot about my no money situation, walked in, was offered champagne because they know me too bloody well, and of course I bought a couple, just a couple, of new and oh so perfect summer frocks.

Then I came home and had an instant panic attack. Fuck fuck fuck, what was I thinking.

For a while I’ve been wanting to take some of my many other impulse buys, meaning worn once and never again, to the vintage store down the road. I called and asked them if they would take a ‘consignment’, they said sure, and so I went though my closet.

I took out a couple of pairs of boots and a whole lot of dresses, folded them and put them neatly in a brown paper bag.

On top of the bag – my wedding dress, beautifully wrapped in soft tissue paper.

It was time for it to go too.

It’s magnificent. It was old when I bought it, hand stitched antique French lace, a total dream dress. I’ve thought over the years of doing something with it – make it into a tunic, maybe shorten it or restyle it, but the lace is just too fragile.

So, I added it to the pile of things to drop off.

I arrived at the store and handed everything over, feeling a little sad to part with it, but hey, $$$, and also, someone may as well wear the stuff.

When I drove home I reached to the back of my car to get a sweater. I felt something beautiful, something soft, something fragile, something delicate, something very special.

Not my sweater.

It was my dress.

The only item that had fallen out the bag was my wedding dress.

I immediately sent a message to the store saying ‘oh shit, sorry, I still have the dress, I’ll drop it off tomorrow.’

But – I’m not going to drop it off.

I’m going to keep it.

In the same way I’ve kept it for the last 25 years.

It’s unlikely my sons will choose to wear it but hey let me not be presumptuous.

Either way, they should definitely have it. Even if just to admire. And to hand down, generation to generation.

It’s exquisite, a work of art, thank goodness it fell out the bag, what was I thinking so impulsively to sell it, oh I know because it’s how I always get into trouble, I am apparently impulsive.

I’m very glad I’ve still got it.

It was the right decision.

Maybe I’ll wear it today. Just for fun.

Then I’ll sort out my bank balance.

14 thoughts on “Lace

  1. Aw I loved reading this. 🙂 And I’m so glad that your wedding dress had the presence of mind to jump out of the bag! 😀
    I still have mine – not that I’d ever fit in it again (I think my ribs have expanded!) and neither of my daughters could fit it either, having the sense to grow a good 3 inches taller than me!
    But I like the idea of your sons one day wearing your dress – even it it was on Rag Day! 😀

    Liked by 2 people

  2. On a totally different topic – I have always wondered why wedding dresses, across ALL cultures, are left as a once in a lifetime outfit. Who made it ‘odd’ to wear a wedding gown to a Saturday night dinner? Whoever it was, I disagree with them. I understand that it might not be ‘functional’ in all cases – after all, some of those elaborate gowns, needs a couple of people to walk with you to keep the ‘wearer’ and the rest of the world. from tripping – but what about the regular gowns? Is it because it was a special day? Then do people also not wear the underwear they had on that day, for the rest of their lives? What about the perfume worn that day? The food that they eat that day? That day was so special that I shall no longer eat cake or steak (or both together) ever again in my life!

    In any event, you are entitled to buy whatever you want to buy my friend, as long as you do not have to stand at street corners with a help sign, you are golden!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s