The Wedding that Inspired me
On a Wednesday night before a Sunday wedding, my sister Jenni and I leaned over a huge square cutting table that she’d built herself. We’d spread out a length of shimmery white brocade and placed a partially-constructed vest over the top. With casual ease, Jenni quickly sketched a few lines around the vest in chalk, then pulled it away to draw another line, showing me just where to cut to create a facing for the vest we were making together.
Because she just knows how to build clothes, improvising a facing for the vest was simple and intuitive for her and I laughed at how our sewing styles were a perfect encapsulation of our personalities. I need thorough, clear instructions. I read them many, many times. I follow them carefully. I search the internet for sewalongs with photos to be sure I’m interpreting the illustrations correctly. But Jenni can take a pattern and sort of use the general shapes of the pieces, expanding the sleeve to a slashed puff or deepening the neckline. If the pattern is one tiny paragraph that could be summarized by, “Assemble bodice,” she can mostly figure out what they meant. Her knowledge of how clothes work is frankly astounding.
We were the same as children — she could play a song on the piano by ear and didn’t much care for reading music, but I needed the sheet music to even start. And our sewing time together felt just like our efforts at the piano. She tried on her works-in-progress and figured out in her head how to slash her puffed sleeve. I hunched over pattern instructions and asked her ten times exactly which edges should be serged.
She and I worked on a lot of the clothes for her wedding and together we spent many last-minute hours in the days before the wedding on details. Even though I’ve never done so much hand sewing in my life, I found myself grinning at getting to spend this precious time with her as I carefully stitched coral coloured thread along the lining of a velvet tailcoat.
We didn’t end up using that brocade vest I mentioned at the beginning because it just didn’t suit the wearer how we’d hoped, but I now know how to improvise a facing, so it was definitely worth it anyway.
Jenni’s style is considerably more extravagant than mine, but I loved getting to help develop her vision for her wedding. It was in that spirit that I designed the shawl to pair with my gown. You can read more about my inspiration and how I developed the pattern and yarn with Gauge Dye Works here.
And since my inspiration was all about the wedding clothes, it’s only right to show you, folks who are into clothes and textiles like I am, the clothes we all wore!
I’m a little bit teary in these photos, so excuse the red eyes. I was happy and emotional and didn’t hold back .
I sewed my dress using a costume pattern for Rose’s dress from Titanic and my cousins are wearing dresses from the same pattern, Simplicity 8399. The green and black dress was sewn by Jenni many years ago (for the opera in Vienna!) and the purple one was sewn by Melanie, who took on the challenge as a new-ish sewist with the help of her mom, who, by the way, was the person who put knitting needles in my hands when I was eighteen and started a whole thing with me!
Jenni’s dress was a combo of patterns and her brilliant imagination. I’m not sure which patterns, if any she used for her step-daughter’s tutu or velvet tail coat, but it the outfit was just perfect for the occasion, especially topped off with those steam punk goggles. I’m also not sure about the pattern she used for my mom’s silk and burn-out velvet dress, I just know I hand sewed so many snaps on it!
The flower girl dresses below were bought, not sewn by us, but my mom stitched tiny butterflies scattered among the flowers to add to the Midsummer Night’s Dream vibe. You can see them on my gown too. It was so sweet to have had all three women in our family working on the clothes together.
Sewing my gown taught me so much about using delicate, slippery fabrics. All that velvet had to be hand basted before sewing and the hem had to be completely hand stitched. After the first try sewing the tulle and having my sewing machine suck it up and tear a giant hole in it, I sewed all the tulle seams and finishes with a sheet of tissue paper and had to use tweezers to pluck out the little bits of paper that wouldn’t tear away properly. Because the pattern is a costume, there were so many suggested finishing details that seemed like corner-cutting, so I got to use what I’ve learned about sewing so far to extend the lining from just the bodice to the whole skirt and insert the zipper between the layers. Let me tell you, it made me feel so powerful!
And that’s how I want you to feel making your Garden Wedding Shawl! It’s a challenge, but I hope you get to hone your skills and learn something new, then feel amazing when it’s done.
Since I wasn’t wearing the shawl during the ceremony, the wedding photographer didn’t get any shots of it, but here’s one from our photo shoot, so you can see how I was inspired!
Find out all the design details and buy the pattern here, and get the perfect yarn designed just for this project from Gauge Dye Works here.