For the second time this week, I’ve seen a video (a different one this time) recommending lidocaine spray to brides so they don’t feel their painful wedding shoes.
Lidocaine is a local anaesthetic, so a liberal spray all over the feet will numb them to pinching, pressure points from heels and rubbing.
I don’t doubt that it works but can we please STOP normalising wearing things that hurt?! And it’s ALWAYS for women.
What you wear on your wedding day – shoes, dress, corset, etc – should allow you to to walk, dance, sit, stand around, eat and ENJOY your day.
I had a bride in for her final fitting once who was looking concerned as she moved in her dress in front of the mirror. I could tell something was wrong and was scrutinising her corsetted dress for the cause of her consternation. It looked perfect and I was started to panic, first that I’d don’t something wrong and second that I couldn’t even figure out what it was.
Eventually, she said hesitantly, “Is this actually right? I wasn’t expecting it to be… comfortable!”
Weddingwear is not designed primarily for practicality in the same way as gym kit, but it shouldn’t be uncomfortable and certainly never painful. For all sexes.
Seriously, can you imagine telling a man to spray his feet with anaesthetic so he can tolerate his wedding shoes?
Should I store my wedding dress hanging up, in a box or some other way?
I’m often asked what the best way to store a wedding dress is, between buying and wearing it on the day (I’m not talking about preserving it after the wedding – that’s a whole other field). They’re big, don’t fit in many wardrobes and you’re probably also having to hide it – something the size of a person – from your other half.
Special shout-out to my recent bride who kept her wedding dress in the bottom of a laundry basket, partly because it was second hand and didn’t come with a bag or box, but mostly because she knew her financé would never find it there.
The best storage method depends partly on the type of dress you have, how voluminous it it, how long the train is, and the fabric(s) it’s made from. Generally though, these are, in order, the best ways:
1. On a Mannequin, Under a Dustsheet
The gold standard, but turn off the lights and put a sheet over it 👻
This is the gold standard of wedding dress storage, but unless you live in a stateley home and happen to own a mannequin set to your own measurements, it’s not practical for most people. If you actually do have a spare room with a mannequin in it, keep the dress, including train, completely covered with a breathable dustsheet (a duvet cover or flat sheet works well) to keep dirt and sunlight off. Draw the curtains too to prevent sun bleaching but bear in mind that it will probably scare the living turds out of anyone who opens the door to that room. Another reason this is my favourite method.
2. Laying Flat on a Spare Bed, Under Cover
If you have a spare bed and aren’t expecting guests for a while, lay the dress out on the bed and cover it with a sheet.
3. Hanging Up
If keeping your dress hanging up in its bag is the most practical option for you, there are a few things to check. Make sure the hanging loops are what’s taking the weight of your dress, NOT the straps, as they could get stretched out of shape. Check what the train is doing. If you have a hook high enough, let the train hang out of the bag rather than scrunched in the bottom, but keep it covered with a sheet or duvet cover. If not, you can either fold or roll it gently into the bottom of the bag, or use the hanging ribbon usually found on the underside of the train to hook it up to the hanger.
Side-note on dress bags: only use waterproof ones for transport, never long-term storage. The slightest bit of moisture gets in and you have stinking mould. I can still smell the dress I unzipped from its plastic garment bag in the recesses of a boutique a decade ago. Don’t make me smell another one.
4. In a Box
Boxes should be sturdy, protective and breathable
Wedding dress boxes certainly have their place and are usually the easiest way to travel with your dress, and they fit neatly on top of cupboards and under beds. They’re also great for concealing details of your dress. However, keeping your dress folded up multiple times in a box is not ideal, especially for bigger dresses such as ballgown and voluminous A-line styles, and those made from stiffer fabrics such as Mikado and duchess satin. Crepe, stretch, lace and tulle gowns tend not to hold their creases as much but it varies from dress to dress. I’m not saying definitely don’t use a box, but factor in extra time (and potentially cost) for steaming/pressing if it’s so crumpled at your fitting that it doesn’t hang properly when you put it on – I need to be able to see how much it needs taking up accurately. Similarly, make sure you have time to get it nice and smooth before you you wear it on the day.
So, lots of options, each with its own advantages.
Overall, my three essentials are: Keep it covered, keep it dry, keep it dark.
Bonus points if you can prank someone, in which case, hide a camera and please send me the results.
Considering a wedding dress with off-shoulder, Bardot straps? Read this first.
You know I’m not one for following trends for the sake of it, but an unavoidable one this summer is the Bardot neckline. Popularised by the eponymous actress Bridget Bardot in the 1950s and ’60s, the straight (or sweetheart) neckline elongated by off-shoulder straps has actually been around since Regency and Victorian eras.
It’s the straps we need to talk about. Loved for balancing out wide hips, narrowing broad shoulders, showing off the décolleté while remaining elegant and concealing bingo wings, they do have an inherent drawback.
The crux of Bardot straps is this: there will always be a trade-off between how well they fit and how much you can still move your arms.
Gorgeous Sarah opted to remove her Bardot straps (and train) completely, and straighten the neckline.
There are workarounds but all of them involve a compromise of some sort. If you want to be able to lift your arms at all on your wedding day – to hug guests, slow-dance with your new spouse, pick up children, toss your bouquet (or hold it victoriously aloft), throw shapes on the dancefloor, remove your veil or fix your hair – and have your heart set on this classic neckline, here’s what we can do.
Awesome Sophie in her Bardot-neckline wedding dress. Yes, she’s on the loo; yes, she’s allowed me to share this.
Option 1: Do nothing
Accept the fit of the straps as they are, which might be slightly baggy but almost certainly will limit how high you can lift your arms.
Option 2: Tighten them to fit
Some people are happy to sacrifice movement and just want them to sit as straight and snugly as possible. This is fine if it works for you, but your arms will be pinned to your sides and only usable from elbows down.
Option 3: Make them detachable
There are a few ways we can do this, including adding poppers so you can remove them entirely. Alternatively, we can have them fitting snugly but fashion a way for them to fold neatly under your arms if you choose to wriggle your arms out of them completely. Alternatively, you could wear a Bardot style as a bolero or even just a separate ‘collar’ that slips over your shoulders.
Option 4: Add elastic
A popular option with my customers this year has been to run some elastic through (or under) the straps so they fit more snugly but can still extend when arms are lifted. This option will cause some gathering/ruching in the straps, which some have embraced for its frilly effect and had me add elastic to the full strap, while others weren’t keen on the aesthetic and just had me add it towards the back.
Option 5: Engineer an internal runner
This is a clever option if you don’t mind the straps finishing tucked into the back (and/or front) of your dress rather than resting on top. Each strap is looped over a horizontal ‘bar’ of ribbon inside the dress that it can run along, while a length of elastic pulls it back into place when your arms are down. It doesn’t work with all dress and strap styles but worth asking about as it’s the best option for keeping a close fit while allowing maximum movement if it works.
Option 6: Raise where they sit
If you’re open to a neckline that isn’t quite strictly a Bardot, a final option is to raise where the straps sit, so they’re on the edge of your shoulder rather than around your arms. This means losing arm coverage (in case that’s a dealbreaker) and gaining coverage on your back so bear in mind whether you want that or not too.
Beautiful Debs, whose Bardot straps I raised to sit higher on her shoulders so her back would feel less exposed. Her sweetheart neckline lent itself particularly well to this alteration. Raising them also meant that, despite shortening them, she had more freedom of arm movement.
If you’ve yet to start wedding dress shopping, please don’t rule out a Bardot neckline, but remember that it will always require a compromise of some sort. And if you already have your Bardot-neckline dress, please don’t panic. Feel free to drop me a line and we can find the best solution for you and your dress.
Char in her gorgeous Bardot gown (with the five-metre custom veil I made her). Photo: Lauren Brumby Photography
The Three Fs to consider to make sure your dream wedding dress doesn’t become a neurospicy nightmare
Shopping for – and wearing – a wedding dress is a whole new experience for most people. Seeing yourself as The Bride for the first time can be surreal and overwhelming, and you’re often in and out of several dresses in quick succession. Consequently, you might not have time or emotional energy to notice the little things that will make wearing one for a whole day uncomfortable.
Add the sensory issues that often come with neurodiversity into the mix and the dress of your dreams can end up feeling like a nightmare.
But not all dresses are created equal, and there are some common culprits to look out for when you’re choosing your dress, mainly around the three Fs: Fabrics, Finishes and Fit. Feel free to add your own F if you hit all three.
FABRICS
I’m not just talking about synthetic fabrics (polyester, nylon, etc) that make you sweat here, as you’ll be hard pressed to find a dress made from 100% breathable, natural fibres (e.g. silk, cotton, viscose, etc) in most boutiques. Sometimes you get a choice, especially if you’re going bespoke. Get samples you can take away and experiment with if you can.
Lace
Lace can be scratchy (particularly the stiffer kind in direct contact with your skin), or conversely tickly – I’m looking at you, eyelash lace necklines. Eyelash lace can usually be trimmed down to the solid edge if necessary so don’t let it put you off an otherwise perfect dress.
Tickle tickle! Beautiful and delicate, eyelash lace can also be a bit tickly for some people.
Check which parts of your body will be in contact and whether it will irritate you.
Feathers
Another tickly one is feathers. Even if you’re not outright allergic, feathers can tickle mot just your skin but the inside of your nose (they shed too). There can also be sharp bits.
Sequins
One of my biggest bugbears with wedding dress manufacturers is the placement of beads and – worse – sequins under the arms of sleeveless dresses where they will chafe the delicate skin of bare inner arms. Have you ever felt the edge of a sequin? Those buggers are SHARP. Now imagine rubbing your arm on clusters of them all day and night.
Even if they’re not right up in your armpit, check what your wrists will be brushing against if your dress has beads and sequins on the skirt. If they’re somewhere annoying, you can have them removed. Alternatively, if they’re too pretty to ditch, have your seamstress cover them in a soft sheer fabric such as tulle or organza so you can still have the sparkle without the scratching. If you’re open to a bit of a restyle, you could even add sleeves or gloves to protect your skin.
Glitter
A huge trend at the moment is glitter, especially on tulle, although I’ve also seen it on satin and even lace (and I’ve actually made two wedding dresses using a black glitter lace satin!). By its nature, it has a slightly rough texture so I usually recommend putting it under a layer of tulle rather than have it as the top layer of a dress. It will still sparkle but feel softer.
Veils are different as they’re not in constant contact with your skin.
FINISHES
It’s not just the fabrics themselves that can cause an issue, but what you do with them and where on the dress you wear them.
Stitched tulle
For example, even the softest tulle becomes a serious rash-inducing irritant when it’s folded and stitched, especially for a neckline; it makes every tiny fibre an inflexible ridge that RUBS. I see red skin under a lot of illusion panels where the edge has been turned under and sewn. It’s usually better to leave the edge raw and unstitched; I cut some away for a bride during her fitting this week and the relief was immediate.
Some tulle necklines and arm scyes (that’s the technical term for an armhole) have to keep their stitched edge to prevent them stretching out of shape during wear. In these cases, ask your seamstress to put something underneath the narrow hem to protect your skin. Depending on the dress, I’ve used iron-on soft interfacing (often seen on the back of embroidery on T-shirts for example) organza ribbon and clear silicon tape. Sometimes we need to experiment a bit to find what will work best for the dress and the wearer.
Unstitched tulle
It also depends on where on the dress they are. Unfinished stiff-tulle hems (usually in underskirts and inner dress layers) feel like barbed wire if they come into contact with the tops of your feet. When I get in a hot shower after a day when I’ve worked on stiff tulle, my hands and forearms suddenly sear from all the micro abrasions and scratches they’ve sustained from the edges.
Enclosing them in a rolled hem or encasing them in bias binding protects skin. I do this as standard on all my bespoke dresses, but not all manufacturers do (the last Vera Wang dress I altered didn’t; also polyester BTW), or they’re inconsistent with it (some Wed2b dresses have their stiff tulle hemmed, others don’t)
The raw edge of stiff tulle
Boning
Not quite a fabric, but an essential component of many wedding dresses is boning (stop sniggering at the back). It shouldn’t be uncomfortable but check where it finishes at the bottom to make sure it’s not digging in your tummy, hips or the tops of your legs, especially when you sit. I’ve had to shorten bodice bones for many people, especially wheelchair users.
Need a light boning, anyone? Fnarrrr
Smells
Smells might not be the first thing wedding dresses make you think of, but have a good sniff when you’re trying them on or choosing fabrics. Some manufacturers spray fabrics with chemicals that have a distinctive smell that not everyone can tolerate. Some have a sickly sweet smell and others more unpleasant odour of fish mixed PVA glue.
Cheap stiff tulle seems to be a repeat offender here. I once had to leave some outside (literally on the washing line) for two months before I could tolerate it inside, even after machine washing it twice. The smell still hadn’t completely gone so I gave up on it and invested in a better one, making a mental note never to cheap out on stiff tulle again.
If you’ve bought your dress second hand or a vintage number and specialist cleaning can’t get rid of smells, my friends in theatre always recommend spraying with cheap vodka.
FIT
Of course, making sure your dress fits well can solve a lot of sensory issues. But when you’re trying on samples that don’t fit you properly, make sure you understand what a proper fit will feel like.
Heavy + strapless = tight bodice
For heavy strapless dresses in particular, it might have to be tighter than you’d like. A weighty skirt section needs to rest snugly above your hips so it doesn’t fall down and have to doing the yank-it-up dance all day. By snug, I mean firm and supportive; you should still be able to breathe normally and feel like you could enjoy a full meal. Wedding dresses are not usually designed or worn for practicality but they shouldn’t be uncomfortable and should certainly never be painful.
If you’re someone who easily feels constricted in tighter clothes, consider whether a looser style might be for you. I’ve seen a dress trigger a panic attack once it fitted as it should because the bride didn’t realise that it would need to be so tight to stay up. She was autistic and had sensory issues against feeling squeezed. When she bought her heavy satin strapless ballgown, it was some inches too big for her – gaping all over and falling down – and she didn’t realise how much more snug the bodice would need to be to support the weight of the skirt. Even leaving it slightly looser than I would normally to accommodate her sensitivities (she explained them to me at our first appointment), it still felt too restrictive for her.
THE GOOD STUFF
I would love to be able to provide a definitive list of Fabrics, Finishes and Fits that won’t cause sensory issues. As we know though, if you know one neurospicy person you know one neurospicy person. Everyone’s needs, likes, dislikes and sensitivities are different, just as every dress will be different. Satin is lovely and smooth and could be a safe bet for many but it can be heavy and people like my daughter hate the sound and feel of someone running their nails on it. Most things are surmountable but might need more budget for alterations.
What I’m hoping to achieve here is to give some things to consider when choosing a wedding dress, whether that’s in a boutique, creating something bespoke or buying second hand.
Because I don’t ever again want to see someone’s face as they realise at their final fitting that they’ve made a mistake in their dress choice.
It’s the question in Facebook groups that makes me twitch: “What are you paying for your wedding dress alterations?”
It’s usually asked to get an idea of how much the poster should expect to pay for their own.
With no additional info it’s probably the mechanics’ equivalent of, “How much will it cost to get my car through its MoT?” I even asked a similar question of the RAC man this week as he poked under my car bonnet to ascertain why it had stopped dead on the school run, would no longer start and even the hazard lights had given up the ghost.
The alternator was kaput he informed me as he closed the bonnet with a tinny click. “Oh. How much is a new alternator then?” I asked, trying to sound like I might know what an alternator actually was.
Even knowing the make, model and pitiful state of my car (*cough* rollerskate *cough*), he could only guesstimate a range of £70-£400+ before checking online. There are apparently many options.
And so it is with wedding dress alterations. Wildly variable. Moreso than alternators even.
What your alterations will cost depends on a great many things, chief among them:
Your dress. Specifically, its design, construction, structure and embellishments etc. Taking up a dress with two plain layers is much easier, quicker and therefore cheaper than a dress with 11 layers including one with a lace hem that needs to be unpicked and stitched back on. Does it have beaded lace covering the bodice seams that needs to be removed and replaced to bring it in, sleeves that need shortening or is it strapless, etc?
What you need doing. Your dress might need letting out taking up, taking in, straps shortened, sleeves narrowed, back shortened, new cups, extra support, a bustle hook (or 12), extra embellishments, custom embroidery, a reshaped neckline, bespoke elements and any combination of these.
Where you live. There are differences between countries and within countries. A dressmakers’ Facebook group I’m in is currently conducting a UK-wide survey to get an idea of what we charge for common alterations by region but it’s proving tricky because of the wide variation of work.
Where your seamstress works. Do they have the overheads of a studio or are they home-based? If home-based, have they had to buy a much larger house beyond the required living area to accommodate a home studio? ‘Working from home’ as a seamstress requires a lot more space – several rooms in my case – than a corner with a laptop.
The seamstress’s relationship with where you bought your dress. Are they attached to the boutique and recommended exclusively (as most boutiques work) or one of many on a list (like Wed2b provides), or did you find them yourself? When I’ve worked as the exclusive seamstress for boutiques, they’ve taken between 10 and 25% of my alterations charge as a referral fee, which I had to add on to the customer. With the Wed2b list for example, I don’t have to pay to be on it and don’t get paid by Wed2b. You also won’t pay the fee if you find the seamstress independently.
The skill level, training and experience of the seamstress. A dressmaker friend Anita Dudley points out that just as you would expect to pay more for a senior stylist in a hair salon, a more experienced seamstress will likely cost more. When I was starting out, I offered enormous discounts to counter my lack of track record, even though the work took me at least twice as long as it does now.
The level of service that comes as standard. Some pros steam or fully press every dress they get or even offer a full cleaning service or storage facility. Others might charge differently for regular fittings vs family and friends dress reveals with champagne and canapés.
Another dressmaker friend Amanda Davies reminded me that one thing highly unlikely to have a bearing on alterations costs is what you paid for your wedding dress in the first place.
I’ve done alterations that cost the bride £50; I’ve also done alterations that cost nearly £1,000. I could work out the mean, median and mode of those and everything in between but still wouldn’t come up with anything informative until I had seen your dress in person and knew what you needed doing.
My dressmaker friend Kate Edmondson reminds me here that one thing highly unlikely to have a bearing on alterations costs is what you paid for your wedding dress in the first place. You might have got an absolute bargain online, in a sample sale, or even brand new but if it takes the same amount of skill and time to alter as a much pricier dress, the cost to alter them will be the same. Yes, that does mean that sometimes alterations cost more than the dress itself.
My advice to find out how much YOUR wedding dress will cost to alter is to get recommendations of seamstresses in your area and get some quotes. You can also use it as an opportunity to see how well you click with different people. After all, this is an intimate, high-stakes process so make sure the person you choose is someone who gets you.
A good starting place if you’re in the UK is the Find Your Bridal Seamstress Facebook Group, which is linked to the group for pros I’m part of that is running the regional cost surveys I mentioned.
Some extensive alterations included completely reshaping the back of this dress.
The car gets a new alternator tomorrow. It’s costing £250. 😏
‘Dress Regret’: the struggle is real – but IS surmountable
Between all the inquiries I get and social media bridal groups I’m in, something I see and hear almost daily is ‘dress regret’. You’ve bought/ordered your wedding dress and are now panicking you’ve made the wrong choice, should have tried more on, or worried about how you look in it.
You’re still bombarded with wedding day pics of couples looking awesome, not to mention designers’ perfectly styled publicity shots, and there will always be new collections, etc etc etc. You’ve had to choose one dress from almost infinite options so how can you ever feel you’ve got it right?
Out of the hundreds of brides I’ve worked with, I’ve only known two come for their fittings and then decide to buy a different dress, and both were already on their second or third dress at that point.
From experience, here’s a little reassurance about why dress regret creeps in and how we can thwart it:
Your dress doesn’t fit you – yet. All those wedding photos and publicity shots show well fitting dresses post-alterations (or clamped out of shot). Before alterations, it can just feel like you’re dressing up in someone else’s clothes. It gapes here, pinches there, is too long to fall properly, etc. Get to your seamstress and get it feeling like it’s actually YOUR dress.
You didn’t look for long enough. But tough shit, you can’t. You could buy the first dress you try on or you could try a different one on every day for years. It’s like studying for a test; when did you ever sit an exam and feel like you had revised ‘enough’?
You haven’t seen it in months. Many customers I see haven’t dared unpack their dress since the shop assistant expertly folded it between layers of tissue into its box. Some have stored it at someone else’s house so haven’t even been able to sneak a peek at it (especially true during lockdown). You might just need to refresh your memory of how gorgeous all the details are.
You’ve tried it on (or tried to) at home. Some dresses can’t be put on single-handedly, my own included. But I still tried, broke the hook and eye while trying to swivel it sideways and was then sufficiently paranoid I was going to burst through the seams Hulk-style on my wedding day that I (needlessly and knackeringly) crash dieted and even bought a back-up dress that never got worn. Don’t be me.
Being neurospicy. Indecision paralysis and the dopamine hit of buying something new are all the more challenging if you are autistic and/or have ADHD. Recognise if this is the case.
Others’ opinions – either too many or not enough. Take them on board but consider who they’re coming from and what their motives are. They’re not wearing it. They’re not you. Trust your own gut on what feels right for you.
Your body has changed since you bought it. Bodies are meant to change. You might have been ill, gained/lost weight, had a baby, gender reassignment, been breastfeeding, etc. It’s your seamstress’s job to make your dress fit your body, not yours to make your body fit your dress.
It’s a different time of your menstrual cycle. When I’m ovulating, I look (read: feel) like the sexiest person who ever lived. Two days before my period, I am (again, feel) hideous in everything (or, even worse, nothing).
The pressure to look ‘perfect’. Again, you can’t, because there’s no such thing. Even my husband and I affectionately describe each other as “almost perfect” because we recognise actual perfection doesn’t exist.
Want an objective opinion? I’m always happy to take a look at your dress either in person or pictures and give you options objectively (and kindly) so feel free to drop me a line.
What I’m really thinking when I say brides,bridalwear etc
My blog post that’s currently blowing up (for me; everything’s relative) about making wedding dresses for people of all genders and sexes included this side note about the term ‘bridalwear’:
I use the term bridalwear as loosely as possible because not all of my customers identify as brides. I try to use more inclusive terms where I can. I specialise in dresses and the traditionally more feminine styles of weddingwear such as dresses, veils, jumpsuits and separates rather than men’s suiting and tailoring and I’m still answerable to the SEO gods – I need people to find me! As language, attitudes and social mores evolve, this will change of course. In the meantime, I’m always happy to learn and stand corrected if I’m saying or doing something deplorable.
I want to elaborate. I almost always do.
It’s a topic very close to my heart, my family and my English Language degree.
I can’t do away with the term. At least not yet.
Many of my customers not only identify as a bride but embrace the (hopefully) once in a lifetime opportunity to be The Bride. I don’t want to deny them that.
When I know someone is happy to be called a bride, I will use the term for that individual in my conversations with them and in describing them publicly.
Others don’t. I equally don’t want to force an erroneous identity on them or make them feel excluded or othered. I always endeavour to check. Some prefer marrier, partner, or something else.
When I’m talking generally about unknown individuals, I use inclusive, gender-neutral language such as couples, spouse, nearly-weds or customers.
I completed an LBGTQ Awareness Course four years ago with the sadly now defunct Wedding Business School a few years back.
I’d hoped to revisit it for this post but will have to rely on my memory. Quite rightly, it advocated gender-neutral terms.
But I’m finding it tricky to describe what I do, and who I do it for, without saying bridal or bridalwear.
I could – and do – say I make wedding dresses, but I don’t just make those; I make veils, jumpsuits, playsuits and separates including trousers, skirts, capes and overskirts too. My very first foray into creating wedding outfits was inspired by the bow-ties and masculine tailoring of Marlene Dietrich in the film Morocco.
Credits below*
And I love throwing androgynous flamboyance into the mix, like I did when I created the Skye shirt-cape:
But if I say I make wedding outfits or weddingwear, that feels like it covers more than I actually do, because I don’t make traditional menswear like tailcoats, shirts, waistcoats and morning suits.
So I don’t want to waste anyone’s time by contacting me about making them something I don’t make.
And I do want to stay visible in search results when people look for “bridalwear near me”. Don’t even get me started on hashtags. I have to use the hashtags that people looking for the kind of things I make use so they can find me.
How about emojis? Decorative, convenient shorthand, especially where there are character limits. When there are gender neutral options, I use those. If I can use female, male and non-binary together, so much the better.
My Instagram highlight of real customers
For example, on my Instagram, I have a highlight featuring my customers in my creations on their wedding days. Originally I called it Real Brides, which was the maximum character limit that would stay visible on my profile. When I realised this was not only not inclusive but also inaccurate, I changed it to Real Customers, but only Real Custom remained visible and just looked odd. Similarly, Real Weddings became Real Weddin.
Emojis to the rescue. Then I had to pick which skin colours to include (and exclude). ARGH!
Ultimately, I have carved a career out of celebrating individuality. That’s what bespoke is.
So whoever you are and however you identify, please know that I see you, I love you and I’m just waiting for the language and SEO gods to catch up.
*Venue: @weddings_the_boat_shed_salt Photography: @photosbypaloma Bridalwear: me! @hollywintercouture Model: @gabbywaite97 Flowers: @lilybee822 Jeweller: @bishboshbecca Headpieces: @peacock_and_pearl Shoes: @irregularchoice Hair and make-up: @tonisearlemua Cakes: @annalewiscakes Mobile bar: @effervescerefreshments
Perhaps we should be rivals, but we don’t see it that way. There’s plenty of work to go around and we need to know who we can recommend when we’re fully booked. And you can’t work in weddings and not have at least one back-up plan if something takes you out of action in peak season; last year for example, just as I recovered from Covid, I broke my arm. The year before, I’d picked up brides when a dressmaker friend broke her leg.
We have Facebook groups, WhatsApp groups and Christmas parties. We celebrate each other’s new shop openings, dress designs, birthdays and business anniversaries.
More tellingly, we are open and vulnerable with each other. We ask for advice and help. We admit when we don’t know the technique for something or have never used a particular machine or stitch.
Even better, within minutes usually, someone provides the answer and willingly, voluntarily, steps in to teach what we need to know.
Last month, I wanted to know how to do a delicate edging stitch I’d seen at the V&A’s Chanel exhibition. Unfortunately in that case, it turned out I would need two new machines: a picot hemming machine and a time machine, because picot hemming machines haven’t been manufactured for a century, BUT it was dressmakers in my network who told me this.
Anyway. I’m going to go against the sisterhood grain here and call someone out, albeit not by name.
I’d made a veil a bride not local to me who was having her dress altered by someone else. I’d made her friend’s wedding dress a few years back and included a bustle hook as standard, and she asked her seamstress to add one to her dress. She even described quite specifically the type she wanted (there are several).
When she went to pick her dress up, there was no bustle hook. Instead, the seamstress handed her these three safety pins.
This is not a bustle hook. “Just use these,” my bride was told.
There are bustle pins you can buy, but I’ve never recommended them. Figuring out which bits of many layers to attach them to, usually at the point of the wedding when most people have had a few sherberts, is not simple. Worse, they make holes in the fabric, and my bride asked whether this would happen.
“Yes,” was the response, “but hopefully no-one will see them.”
Pick. My. Jaw. Off. The. Floor.
I want to give the seamstress the benefit of the doubt. We all have off days. Maybe she forgot. Maybe she was rushed. Maybe she didn’t actually know how to bustle this dress but she’a a professional seamstress workong with a bridal boutique. Maybe there was a reason she couldn’t do it that hasn’t occurred to me, because I can’t fathom why she recommended this.
I’m not local or available in time so couldn’t do it myself but, predictably, someone from my needle ninja network stepped in within hours to add the bustle hook (thank you again, Tina).
A member of our Facebook group said of she found out the safety pin seamstress was a member, she’d be kicked out.
Another customer, a tattoo artist, was in awe when I told her about how supportive dressmakers are, and was rightly envious. She told me that her industry was rife with rivalry and bitchiness.
We are so passionate about what we do and seeing it done well. Keep your safety pins for emergencies, not your bustles.
It’s finally happened. I’ve had brides arrive for wedding dress fittings without their shoes or underskirt several times but today brought a first: a bride just arrived for her without… her dress.
It’s absolutely not her fault; she’s storing it at her parents’ house and her dad handed her the wrong grey storage box. We only realised what had happened when we opened it in my fitting room and found an assortment of summer clothing and books.
While she runs back to her parents’ house for the correct grey box, I thought I’d put together a list of what you need to have with you to make sure I get your dress fitting perfectly:
Yourself. As you are, no worries about whether you’ve gained/lost weight or that your dress won’t fit. That’s why you’re here.
Your dress. Obviously.
Your shoes. Unless you’re absolutely 100% certain you don’t need your dress taking up.
Your underskirt. This can make an inch or more’s difference to the length, especially if it’s hooped. If it has a suck-you-in waistband, it can also change how the bodice fits. They tend to sit Simon-Cowell-waistline high so if you have a sheer bodice and/or an open back, nows also the time to check whether it’ll be on show if we don’t do something about it.
Your undies. Anything that changes your shape or size such as a padded bra, minimiser bra, shapewear, padded knickers (would not be a first) will need to be on you when I pin you in your dress. Just remember to take them with you when we’re done (but it also wouldn’t be a first if you forget).
Belt. Especially if you want it sewn on.
Not essential, but feel free to bring your veil, jewellery, garter, and anything else you’d like to try to see if it works with your dress if you’d like and we’ll have a proper play.
I’ve just come out of a wedding dress fitting with a bride who loved her dress bit now wants me to restyle the neckline of her dress because the priest (Catholic, if it’s relevant) conducting her church ceremony asked her:
Not my actual bride in question, just another badass.
“How revealing is your dress?”
Consequently, she has gone from loving her dress and feeling confident with the V-neck illusion panel (ie skin-toned translucent tulle) to being paranoid and wanting to add approx 4″ of lace to conceal her cleavage.
I’m not religious so wanted to get perspective(s) on whether I’m right to be feeling angry on her behalf. I feel the priest is policing her body, was sexist to ask her this (he didn’t ask the groom) and what she chooses to show of her own body at her own wedding is no concern of anyone else.
If it even makes a modicum of difference to the priest, should he even be a bloody priest? If he’s worried about what other people think, that’s irrelevant. If he’s worried about being distracted himself, or having “impure” thoughts provoked, that’s a him problem, not a neckline issue.
If he’s concerned about some epidermis causing a distraction, I’ve offered to dance at the back in a bikini.
I realise this is technically none of my business either but I’m feeling invested now after seeing the effect his probing has had on the bride.
