Hello hive! Do you mind if I pop in for a second to tell the tale of my wedding dress’s after-life?
Post-wedding, my poor dress was a bit of a mess. The bustle broke, tearing the chiffon in the back slightly, and the bottom was dirty from having run November-Rain-style through the post-after-party downpour. I thought, “well, that’s that…” but my mom, only slightly aghast at my lack of sentimentality, cleaned it (I think in the bathtub) and even fixed the tear.
On a recent visit, I went up to my old bedroom, which is now the guest room. Although my mom has kept the ludicrously bright pumpkin-colored paint I’d chosen, she’s since redecorated in her folksy, crafty, turn-of-the-century bed & breakfasty style.
Darling, right? But wait, what’s this? Hanging on a lacy hanger on the closet door is a now-permanent installation piece!
My dress as decor. While it totally works in my mom’s home, and I adore my mom’s craftiness and style, I LOL-ed when I saw it, in all its Miss Havisham-esque loveliness. Mr. PH and I slept in that room over Christmas and in the middle of the night, I was maybe just a little convinced that the ghost bride would appear out of the closet and possibly murder us.
Rumor has it, if you look in the mirror when the clock strikes twelve, you might even catch a glimpse of the ghost bride, eternally awaiting her wedding day.
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