Downton Abbey Dress

In November, on Thanksgiving to be exact, when Erin (middle daughter) and Andy, (partner of over five years) announced they were engaged, I was surprised. I had wanted my daughters to go to college and be able to take care of themselves, and I’d quit praying for them to have “godly” husbands when I left the Baptist church, years ago. So this past weekend, it was a treat to go wedding dress shopping, a chance to just have fun with all my grown daughters.  Erin had made appointments at two bridal salons, and Megan had mapped out the route and found a place to stop for lunch and made reservations for the four of us for dinner. Kathleen, of course, drove up from Owatonna. 

The night before, Kathleen called, as she was driving home from Faribault and her windshield cracked. It had gotten hit with a rock on the way to Faribault, and it decided to crack on her way home. Between calls to me, and Andy, and looking up online if it was illegal to drive with a cracked windshield, we all figured it out. She’d be fine to drive up in the morning, since the crack didn’t obstruct her vision (guidelines for legality of it all). 

It was cold but sunny when we all ventured out, ready for our wedding dress excursion. Throughout the day it was hard not to remember when I bought my dress, worn it and felt like a princess for a day; and then I’d had it cleaned and boxed and put it away for someone else to wear someday. Sooner than one day, I’d worn the dress again, when a friend of mine started doing bridal photography. I posed for a photo shoot, and I was in an ad for his business. A strange segue-way for a dress. Then, one halloween, when Erin was around 10 or 12 she thought maybe she’d wear my dress, but she got it stuck on, and I had to break the zipper to get it off of her. Eventually, I just tossed it. 

While shopping we had the most fun at Andrea’s Vintage Bridal salon, they had an amazing selection of vintage gowns, from turn of the century gowns to a funky mini, and the ambience was fun and charming. Kathleen and Megan and I all sat down on a big comfy white sofa, while Erin tried on dresses, and we gave feedback, noting the pros and cons of each dress. The young woman who helped Erin, creates magic with a sash “see it pulls it all nicely together this way” and she knew her fashion and her fabrics. There was a huge old wooden radio that was tuned to a station that played oldies love songs, like The Raspberries singing, “please baby go all the way”  which I told my girls was a great summer-time, driving around the lake song and they were like ok mom. We all agreed Elvis was still great as one of his love songs played. 

Erin was beautiful in the gowns, and the one that made me cry when I saw her in it was not the one she ended up with. She would not try on the mini, even though I asked. I did not cry as much as I thought I might. For this woman, and for this wedding, I have no worries, so perhaps no reason to cry. I’ve wanted my daughters to grow up and know the world is big and beautiful and that love is important, but romantic love is not the most important part of life, and much of it is a myth. Real love though, that is important, real love as in companionship and commitment and even in the ability to love lightly, rather than tightly, and in all these things, Erin and Andy hold the keys. 

A dress was put "on hold" at the vintage salon. At the second salon it was more traditional, with traditional (big) gowns. Kathleen and I reminded Erin of how tired brides could get in the huge dresses, the long trains. (Kathleen has had one too many turns as a bridesmaid.) Between trying on newer gowns, and the retro gowns, the difference became clear that it was between wearing a dress and dressing up as a bride. Some of the gowns simply looked like marshmallows with heads and feet. 

The fun for me was that I was surrounded by three grown, beautiful, smart and sometimes headstrong daughters. At dinner I told them how proud I was of them, and I shared that I was so often worried for them while I was caring for them; worried I wasn’t doing a good enough job, worried about how they would “turn out.” They acknowledged the stress of mothering, and we all laughed, together and fine. And really, really, I could not have asked for more. An Old Testament verse declares: “Her children rise up and call her blessed.” Proverbs 31:28. I felt blessed and safe in the company of my wild women. I am blessed, for sure. And the old gown from the vintage salon was bought, and well, it will be remade into something new, with a beautiful sash; and it will be a surprise, a beautiful Downton Abbey sort of surprise.