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Veil Cost Breakdown

What price embroidered magnificence?

How much of the cost of a veil actually lands in my pocket? The answer, it turned out when I tried to work it out, is not straightforward. I’m not sure whether I was surprised by the figure I kind of landed on, but I found it interesting enough to share it.

This example is based on an Etsy order I received before Christmas for a fingertip Happily Ever After veil.

Woohoo! A new order!

With the local taxes in the customer’s US homeland, the total paid by them Etsy was £421.20 (~$567.72 US).

Before the money leaves Etsy, there are a few immediate deductions, which Etsy very kindly lays out:

Fees laod out by Etsy

I get a little confused here because if you take that £83.58 away from £390 (after tax), you get £306.42 (right?!), but what lands in my bank account a few days later is actually slightly more, £310.52. Where the extra £4.10 came from is anyone’s guess but I’m not complaining, especially in low season.

The mystery figure that landed in my bank account

Either way, I then have some more hard costs to cover:

Hard costs for shipping and packaging

I use (almost award-winning; highly commended in the Quirky Awards 2023) sustainable packaging from Tishwish, Royal Mail’s international tracked & signed service with extra insurance, plus the new US 10% import duty (and Royal Mail’s 50p fee for handling this for me). All this brings what landed in my.bank account down to £242.52.

That’s before I even buy the materials for the veil itself.

Hard costs for veil materials

I make enough veils that I can buy many of these in modest bulk – not exactly the economies of scale big manufacturers see, but, for example, I can halve the cost of tulle by buying it in 50m rolls, knowing I’ll get through it. So, the cost of the raw materials of this particular veil are £26.52, just under 7% of the purchase price, bringing the total going to me to £217.

So let’s consider the time it takes to turn a pile of tulle, thread and ribbon into a Happily Ever After fingertip veil. It takes approximately three days to cut, embroider, sew and assemble to completion, so call it 24 working hours, based on an eight-hour working day.

I set my hourly rate at £75, but the time taken to make this veil for £217 slash that to just £9 per hour, which isn’t even minimum wage.

How much per hour

However, most of the time required to make this veil is for embroidering which my machine (theoretically at least) can mostly get on with without me. So, let’s say only a quarter of those three days requires me hands on. That brings my hourly rate to a more palatable £36 per hour, but still less than half what I should be charging (more on this here).

But, and here’s where it gets a bit tricky to calculate again, we need to consider the cost of that beautiful embroidery machine, and all the other equipment I need to make the veil.

What I bought to make my veils

Embroidery machines are EXPENSIVE. I bought mine, an entry-level industrial multi-needle embroidery machine (swoon), for £6,000 a couple of years ago. It literally cost six times more than I paid for my car (priorities, my queens). For context, the next model up is £10,000. Even my first (now back-up) embroidery machine was £1,200 seven years ago, and that only has a single needle, meaning I have to rethread it myself for every colour change, which is every three minutes or so for this veil.

The software I use to create and edit my embroidery designs was £900 and I’ve since paid a further £250-ish for the latest edition. There’s also my Cricut (£300) which even actually works sometimes, but I do have to swear at it a lot first.

A few further costs not included in the image above are my business insurance (public liability, professional indemnity, stock in trust, etc) which is another £500-odd a year; machine servicing at around £200-300 a year and miscellaneous business costs including phone/WiFi bill, mortgage, etc.

As tricky as it is to put a fair price on my work, I think I usually get it about right. I only employ myself and I feel well compensated, so that’s a decent measure, plus I absolutely adore my job.

If you think I should be earning more for what I create, please consider that the next time you see a veil or wedding dress on an ultra-fast fashion site for next to nothing, and think about what the person who actually made it will earn from it.

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The Wedding Anti-Trend Report

Want to know what the masses aren’t doing? Read on.

It’s the time of year when wedding publications trawl search data, surveys and anecdotes to summarise the biggest trends in weddings this year and make their predictions for 2026 (here’s one from Hitched for example).

Bridgerton gowns, bubble hems, basque waists, second dresses and statement veils (duh) are on the rise, apparently. As interesting and insightful as all this is, as with all wedding traditions, my advice remains: adopt the ones that work for you and forget about the rest.

For anyone needing an antidote to reports on what everyone else is doing, here’s my own 2025 round-up of anti-trends: this is a report of what no-one else is doing, what people asked me to make for them because they couldn’t find it in the mainstream boutiques.

These are the wedding un-trends.

Ice-cream shades of pink and mint green, overlaid with bright floral embroidery…
The bride’s late mum’s handwriting embroidered in blue on the ribbon wrapping her bouquet
Turn it green
Turn it pink, blush, peach and purple
Add texture
Add volume
Make it the longest veil I’ve ever created
Make it change colour in daylight
Make it Star Wars, Lord of the Rings and Zelda
Matching – but not too closely matching – jacket embroidery
Pumpkins and flowers
Pastel embroidery to repair the bride’s mother’s original veil

And there are more, but as the weddings have yet to take place, I can’t reveal all yet. But here’s a clue about one of them:

Bibliophile Dark

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The One Ring Came Full Circle For Me Today

Today The One Ring came full circle for me and I am so excited I just needed to make a note of it.

I’m currently working on the design for a custom veil with elements inspired by The Lord of The Rings. This is awesome enough I  itself.

Then this morning, I finally got to meet my very good friend’s mother-in-law who only bloody worked with JRR Tolkien himself! Ann worked with “Professor Tolkien” as she referred to him during his time at Oxford, and she told me he was lovely and, “Just like one of his characters.”

I asked which one and she said, “Tom Bombadil.”

I need to visit her again if she’ll have me to pester her in more depth.

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Wedding Un-Trends for 2024

It’s official: the “un-bride” is in. This is ironic as it essentially means that not following trends is the trend.

The stylist soothsayers are stirring their big-data cauldrons this week and forecasting the wedding trends for 2024. Amid the peach fuzz and torn up seating plans, I was pleasantly surprised that for the second year, the crux according to my bellwether Vogue is that formality and traditions will take a backseat to individual style.

So you can keep your big data, front-row seats at Wedding Fashion Week and your cauldrons (but I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth) because I get to see what that actually means in practice. My customers tend to come to me when they have a good idea what they want but can’t find it in the shops – because it’s not something that would take off in the mainstream because not enough people would buy it.

And that’s the awesome thing.

So, based on what people have been asking me for over the last year, here’s what un-briding is looking like. The un-trends.

  • Transforming dress: see Gill’s detachable train and detachable cape. I’ve also been asked for a voluminous plain dress that unzips at the moment of the first dance
  • Not a dress. Jumpsuits, playsuits, trousers, separates, shirts with trains. Mixing up the traditionally masculine and feminine, like Skye’s Shakespearean Shirt of Dreams.
  • Lace that isn’t floral. Have embroidery software, will create lace. I’ve created bespoke lace and embroidery made of moons, text, pets, in-jokes, bats carrying antique micrometers and the handwriting of lost loved ones. I can even do photos if you fancy having your bodice made from other half’s embroidered face (or why stop there? Let’s make the skirt out of all the faces of your in-laws). The next dress I’m making has some of my most ambitious lace I’ve ever made and I am SO excited to show it (and slightly scared about potential legal action).
  • Colour. I made more black, blush (hello, peach fuzz!) red and blue veils last year than ivory while my bespoke ivory wedding dresses were level pegging with other colours.
  • Upcycling. I’ve just finished restyling a wedding dress as a cocktail dress (I’ll share pics as soon as it’s had it’s big reveal by the bride) and have incorporated lace from mothers’ and grandmothers’ wedding dresses and veils into others. Save the planet, share the love.

Here’s to the untrending trending.

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How Ambimetric Are You?

Are you ambimetric? The chances are that if you were born between 1977 and 1983, you are.

I just uploaded a short hyperlapse Reel showing the making of one the floral embellishments for my Happily Ever After veil. While fingers, beads and threads blurred, the clear constant throughout all 18 seconds was my scarred, tortured, gouged cutting mat.

The cutting mat that has seen better days

How Embarrassing

I’d been worried about the state of my nails, but this proved to be the bigger embarrassment. And it made me realise what a stickler for inches I am. The other side of this mat is pristine, untouched, virginal cutting surface. No trenches scored by countless merciless passes of the rotary cutter. No fibres mashed into its surface by blunt blades to highlight gouges further. Just beautiful, brand-new, reliable cutting mat that I could flip over at any time.

Just one problem. It’s in metric.

The Measure of Xennials

Xennials – the microgeneration born between 1977 and 1983, including me – straddle Generation X and Millenials, with characteristics of both. Sociologists usually define us by the technologies we’re comfortable with. As a classic example, I grew up with a rotary phone screwed to the wall and didn’t have an email address or mobile phone until I was 19 but I was an early (well, 2007) adopter of Twitter. Then again, I met my husband in 1997 and have never used online dating.

I suggest they look at how we measure things. Don’t get me wrong about the centimetres. I CAN work with them, but only for certain things. Metric and imperial units were taught in school but their use had de facto rules whether we realised it at the time or not. Here’s how I’ve realised I work.

Speed

Speed can only be in miles per hour (MPH). Except for that drunken night in the pub with friends in 2003 when we decided that we were henceforth lobbying for the official adoption of furlongs per fortnight (FPF). More specific to my line of work is SPM: stitches per minute. My embroidery machine for example is currently working on a full moon at 500SPM, only half its top speed.

SPM, MPH or FPF?

Distance

As with speed, my default is the imperial mile. Doesn’t matter whether it’s by car, bike, train, plane or crow. However, if I’ve swum it, it’s metres. I can’t run, but if I did, it would get metres, unless it were a marathon and then it would be 26.something miles; I’ve no idea how many kilometres.

However, distance across the living room with a retractable tape measure is always metric.

Similarly, fabric (and thread) length is in metres, but its width is in inches.

The british tabloid press will always convert distance into lengths of a football field, but I have no interest in the game so this one is wasted on me.

Height

Humans must be in feet and inches. Oh, you’re two metres tall? I have no idea what that means. Except I do know that I’m 175cm tall, because I lived in metric-loving Japan once where I was asked my height so often that it remains one of the only things I can still say in Japanese (Hyaku nana-ju go).

However, heights of animals (including horses, because I’m not horsey and don’t understand hands), inanimate objects, buildings, ceilings, tables, DIY projects, etc are all metric. I can’t visualise a 20ft building.

For anything taller than a human, I am also fluent in the standard british unit of height: either Nelson’s Column or a double-decker bus.

Heel height on shoes must be inches. As luck would have it, the ring finger of my left hand is not only precisely 3″ high but bends in exactly 1″ sections, which tells me much about footwear before trying them on just by holding the heel to it. One knuckle and I’ll be taller than my husband, two and I’ll still be able to walk and three will be uncomfortable.

Literally handy

Bodies

Body measurements must always be in inches. So too must dressmaking patterns, seam allowances and notes on how much I’m taking up/in/off or adding.

Two exceptions: the first is when I have to add a lot of measurements together, in which case I’ll use metric but then convert the final number back to imperial.

The second is that the distance of a bullet/knife to a human heart or artery is always in millimetres or “a whisker.”

Weight

Kilos for luggage and cats, grams for parcels and stone and pounds (never just pounds once over the age of one day) for humans.

Area

Cup fraction for bras (half cup, whole cup, etc), square metres for rooms and gardens, number of bedrooms for a whole house, square miles for anything between that and Wales and multiples thereof for anything above that.

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If you…

…(hopefully) recognise yourself in at least one of these:

If you trusted me to design and make your wedding dress, veil or part of your outfit this year;

Some of my 2022 brides, plus model bottom right for Rock n Roll Bride magazine’s ’90s nostalgia shoot


If you chose me to restyle or alter your dress;


If you collaborated with me on a styled shoot, design, blog or magazine feature;

Belladonna, from my collection in collaboration with The Pickety Witch


If you liked, shared or commented on my a post, story, or reel, or tagged me in yours;


If you recommended me to a friend, wrote a review or followed me;
If you saved my sanity when a pattern draft/embroidery machine/tax return threatened it (again);


If you sent me your wedding pictures showing you in something I made, or dropped me a message just to say you liked my work;


If you sold me a beautiful fabric, some sparkling beads, or the badass embroidery machine that cost six times more than my car;

No cup holder?


If you sent me a card, flowers, chocolates or pins with heads shaped like bats;


If you entertained/fed/tolerated my children so I could put the extra time into my work;

If you are either of my children and told me you loved me;


If you helped me set up, pack up, ferry my gear or cut the breeze at a wedding fair;


If you taught me a new sewing technique, design trick or social media idea;

Oh look, I just drew my state of mind.


If you made me laugh until it hurt, let me cry until I felt better or at any point made me a cup of tea,

Thank you. You filled my heart, you made my year.

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Why Embroidery Scissors are Shaped Like Storks

You know the little embroidery scissors that are shaped like a bird? I’m not sure I even registered that the bird is a stork, but this week I learned why.

A white woman's hand holding golden embroidery scissors shaped like a stork to cut a thread on some celtic knot embroidery
My embroidery stork scissors at work on a bespoke project this week

Midwives’ umbilical chord clamps used to be shaped like storks, for their association with delivering babies. It seems a clever marketing person noticed that midwives would often work on embroidery projects while waiting the hours and sometimes days for a labour to progress and expanded the range to embroidery scissors in the same shape.

Antique umbilical chord clamp shaped like a stork
An antique umbilical chord clamp

I’m pretty sure midwives today have a bit more to occupy their time, and the appeal of the novelty ornate scissors has spread beyond their original niche.

If you’d like to see the video I made about this, including the story of my youngest’s birth, and the Nutella I hadn’t realised was on my chin, you can find it on my TikTok here.