This time next week, we shall be celebrating the wedding of my father in law, Brian, to his fiancée, Alison. Excitement has been building up for months in advance of this special occasion: wedding outfit consultation achieved (thanks to Denise at @DenDamBelle for this;) clothes bought and altered; marquee quoted for and hastily cancelled – let us hope the clement weather continues without cutting a swathe through the largely elderly Methodist/Quaker congregation – and copious amounts of fizz garnered for an intemperant evening reception chez nous.
How I have agonised about my outfit! I’m a witness so nominally, if not actually, a fairly important member of the dramatis personae. The groom was apparently envisaging a fairly low key affair to which I intended to wear one of the little-used formal frocks that hang dormant in my wardrobe. But then the bride let slip that she’d like the wedding to be over-the-top. With hats. And the most important rule about weddings, on which, to my eternal regret I did not insist, is that THE BRIDE IS ALWAYS RIGHT.
So a hat it is. And one was duly purchased. And with a hat comes a certain formality: a dress and a jacket and heels, and a handbag. My heart sank. I can never find a damn dress that fits my grotesquely-non-conformist body. Eventually, after a few false starts, I settled on one from Bombshell, the company that specialises in clothing for those of us with a larger bust. It gets worse. Denise the style consultant found me a slightly edgy lavender linen Vivienne Westwood Anglomania jacket from St Bustier. Yes, I know. They specialise in boobtastic dressing.
Now, I tried on the dress and the Boywonder immediately offered the damning criticism that “It doesn’t have your usual sass. It’s like something someone nearly 50 would wear.” If you think about it, this is a particularly nice thing for a 17 year old son to say. I was über-flattered that he’s used to seeing me in younger outfits. Mutton dressed as lamb? No-one’s saying. Denise came to the rescue, though, and recommended that the dress should be taken up from its unflattering mid-calf length to the knee and put me in touch with her wonderful seamstress friend. And this has been sorted out. Damn, I’m gonna look fine.
I ordered shoes to tone with the jacket from my lovely friends at Upper Street in their Night Amethyst luxe glitter suede. (I certainly couldn’t resist a shade with that name.) I’m particularly pleased with the shoes. They’re pointy courts which, with my wide feet, I never thought I’d be able to wear and, with 3 3/4″ heels I thought they were going to be too high. But, being custom made, they fit like a glove, ironically, and are going to be just fine. And devastatingly sexy, the look for which I am aiming, natch. So then there’s the question of the bag. It had to be a clutch and I struggled to find one that would match. Then Denise, with her infinite fashion savvy, came to the rescue. You see, Upper Street have just started working with former Jimmy Choo bag maker Rosemary Ringrose, to supply bags that match their shoes. Lovely Upper Street Lizzie sent Rosemary some matching Night Amethyst fabric and, despite the tight deadline of three weeks, this Clutch Bag of Loveliness arrived this morning. It’s beautifully handmade and finished and I am beyond delighted with it. So please do follow this link to Rosemary’s website and look at her sample selection on there. You won’t be disappointed, I can assure you.
Now, I’d better get on. I need to order several of these for the garden festivities.
***This post has not been sponsored by any of the organisations mentioned. I just like them***