Step up for a ride on the Wedding Rollercoaster

What a week… it’s been an emotional rollercoaster on the Wedding ride.

I’ve seen a lot of brides over the years, and witnessed the change in personality from calm collected at the start of the process, to fraught and distraught (not usually about the dress, I hasten to add) during the middle and absolutely exhausted towards the end, but never did I think it would happen to me.   I’m in control of the dress, the wedding is so small nobody can possibly fall out with us, and we’re having none of the fuss that’s usually associated with stress (flowers, cars, bridesmaids….!).  So what can possibly go wrong?

Like all things bad, this week’s issues have been threefold.

First for the good news.  My three-word Friday would be:  Project KWWD Finished!

And, the jacket looks exactly as I envisaged it 11 months ago when I first spotted the fabric (a first when I’m making something for myself as I usually change my mind).  I’m not that good at drawing but I do get inspiration from the fabric, and I knew, as soon as it was draped across my shoulder, how the jacket would look and where it would fit, and how it would mirror the lines of the dress.  And it does!

So why the rollercoaster?

I have to say it’s not been entirely smooth sailing as there was a sticky moment when I had a fight with the sleeve. Not literally, obviously, but metaphorically speaking as it wouldn’t sit properly.  Consequently when I tried it on, I look like a hunchback, which isn’t the image I’m after.

Some tears (every day has had a leaky eye moment or so it would seem at the moment) and a cup of tea of tea later, I unpicked and reset, and all was well with the jacket once more.  And now it’s finished.  Hurrah!

Just as one problem is solved, another arises and this one is huge…. ACNE (and I don’t mean the trendy jeans label).

I’ve been plagued with spots since the age of 13.  I’ve had two courses of some pioneering acne drug (sort of worked both times, but I did need it twice so you can see a flaw).  But I still get spots… when I’m under pressure, a bit down in the mouth and, of course, stressed.

It’s embarrassing, and painful, when people talk about the horror of spots, they don’t talk about the throbbing pulse of a red volcano with its jazz hands waving to the world from your chin as you try to go about your business and everyone politely ignores the attention seeking imposter.

My mother is the best at making me feel better, she’ll say… “oh, that spot is nasty on your neck…” like it’s a top I’ve bought by mistake and can simply exchange.  It’s a spot, and like an illegal squatter only time will shift it.

Thankfully so far, they’re not on my face, but underneath my chin and on my chest.  But they won’t go.

Which means, a change of design for the neckline and bodice.  Whilst I wasn’t going to go down the deep plunging neckline, I did want to show a little flesh.  Realistically these imposters aren’t going to vanish anytime soon, and if they do they’ll leave a faint pink reminder of their visit.  Nope, it’s best to return to the drawing board and revise the neckline.

I should have known this would happen… advice to self, if you’re got a weakness address this before dress selection to avoid more hassle.

With time pressing on, I decided to start cutting out the dress (namely the skirt) this week, Significant Other was out and mum was around to anchor the fabric to the table whilst I cut.  Unfortunately the dress is so huge I didn’t have the space to lay all the pieces on the fabric before cutting, so had to cut as I went along. I don’t like this method but have done it often so didn’t think anything of it.

I’m used to plunging the scissors into hundreds of pounds worth of fabric, but for the first time in my life, I felt nervous.  Consequently the cutting took twice as long as it should have.

However, with only one piece to go, just the centre front skirt, I looked down to discover, to my dismay, I had merely a postage stamp sized piece of fabric left.

Did I swear, shout, rant and rave?

No, but I did have another leaky eye moment, until a droplet of mascara streaked water fell too close for comfort to one of the pieces, and I pulled myself together.  All I needed was another “length” of fabric.  However, it wasn’t simply the inconvenience and expense of ordering, that upset me, it was also the disappointment that I couldn’t get started straight away. I wasn’t panicking or worried, I would simply give James Hare silks a call and get it all sorted.  As I reached for the phone, it started to ring.  Significant Other’s Aunt was calling to see how things were going, I gave her a brief summary (as above) and then she uttered the words every dressmaker dreads “…well it’s to be hoped the supplier has some left…”




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