Weddingbee Blog

I read Jane Eyre for the first time on the subway, during a two-week temp job at a law office. The work was tedious; as a recent college graduate my expectations were optimistic, but the job market was not. So for two weeks I commuted into the city and photocopied my days away. I picked up Jane Eyre because it was a classic I hadn’t read. I craved a literary tome to get me through my day as an errand-runner and toner-replacer. I appreciated its heft, its bulk, its heaviness in subject, bringing me back to a familiar place I hadn’t been able to access since my English department seminar days, a place that seemed distant and imaginary in this resume-sending, business-suit-wearing, serious world. I needed Jane and her sassiness, her quiet confidence, her stubbornness. When I finished my two week stint, so too did I finish the novel.

But not really. I didn’t stay in the corporate world for long, but I return to Jane at least once a year. I even have an e-text version on my iPod Touch so I can grab a virtual-page or two while waiting for an appointment or in a long line. I settle into the text and always find something new and something familiar.

What’s this got to do with weddings?

You may recall a scene when Jane and Mr. Rochester are first affianced. He wants to take her in his carriage and dress her up with the finest new gowns, baubles, jewels. She refuses, insisting on being married just as she is, in her clean, tidy, plain muslin dress.

As a 22-year-old reading the novel for the first time, I thought, “Jane! Girl! Get with it! Take the silk dupioni! Some new necklaces! What’s wrong with a little dress-up? Why not?” That was my gut reaction every time I read that part of the novel. Until recently.

Thumbing through magazines and sifting through websites, I tried to figure out what gowns might suit me, what I could picture myself wearing. I love clothes, I love fashion, and I love putting on bright colors, unexpected hues, pairing preppy with funky… but I couldn’t picture myself in a ball gown. I’m too small! My body too short and curvy! My style, too relaxed. I anticipated feeling a lot like Jane, like a little girl playing dress-up who pines for the familiarity of a plain dress, something that is “her”, something that is “me”.

Is it any wonder that I’m drawn toward dresses like this, all V-neck and pockets and simplicity?

“Lindsey” by Vineyard, Priscilla of Boston

So despite all the blingy blinginess showcased on “Say Yes to the Dress” and “Platinum Brides”, and worn beautifully and elegantly by many friends, I figured I’d side with Jane and keep it simple. Plain? Maybe. But if it’s good enough for Jane, it’s good enough for me.

But then, THEN. There was a game-changer. A pretty big game-changer.

Did you consider a fancy bridal dress, while longing for something simpler?