To recap, we started with an off-the-rack Spanish lace gown (the San Patrick “Provenza” model) and some big, if vague, ideas for what it might become.
Since we last saw our trusty gown-in-progress, it has grown spaghetti straps, a V-back, and a slimmer silhouette, fitted through midthigh or so…
Elena the seamstress thought that the formerly A-line skirt could use a bit of crinoline in front to flesh out the patterns in the lace. Mom nixed this idea on sight — she thought it flared too much, and I wasn’t aiming for the mermaid look. Elena unpinned half the crinoline and took it out; we’ll see how the skirt lays when she’s finished.
The good news is that I now have a veil. But I’ll get to that. First, the unsuccessful contenders:
Veil Fail #1: The Blusher
Lots of brides have these. I think it’s supposed to make you look demure. Alas, for all the things I am, an ingenue I ain’t. I’m a divorcee walking down the aisle by myself, and even if that doesn’t make me an outright brazen hussy, you’d better believe that my head’s going to be uncovered when I do it.
Veil Fail #2: The Cathedral Train
No-brainer, right? There’s no place more appropriate for a cathedral-length veil than the National Cathedral. Or so I thought, until I tried the thing on and realized it drowned my gown in the tulle verson of our living room rug.
But the failed veils were not without their positive points. I was a big fan of the chapel length (sans blusher), the embroidered scalloped edge on the cathedral veil, and the square cut that gave the veil almost a blazerlike effect as it ended in two corners at my hips. “Can you make me this veil in this length, with embroidery to match the lace on the dress?” I asked Elena. She said yes, she could. Success!