This Post is Going to Be Very Pink
I decided to take a break from experimenting with makeup looks for SPWF, and share some photos.
So. Royal wedding! My mother and I aren’t Monarchy Nerds, nor are we terribly fond of staying up twenty-four hours in a row – but we are very, very girly. I think the idea for a Royal Wedding Three AM Tea Party struck us both simultaneously about a week ago. It was like a bolt of pink, glittery lightning.
Thus, we had one. Just us. Just because.
The silver is my own, from my grandfather. The pattern is called “First Love,” and it was either made from 1847 to 1936, or debuted in 1847 with my particular set dating from 1936. I’ve never been able to decipher the card I found packed away in the box. The china is my mother’s, also from grandpa. I couldn’t find the saucers, so dessert plates had to suffice. (I had to dig around in the garage to find the pot and the serving plates – half our pretty things have never been unpacked, despite the number of years we’ve lived here.)
The pink goodies (including the molded rose and crown sugar cubes!) are from Le Chic Bakery Boutique. I am an Etsy fanatic; it even feeds me.
Everything was too lovely to eat! (Hint: We ate it all.)
After crashing and sleeping the clock around following our shameless repast (mom passed out after the vows; I managed to make it through the carriage rides), I awoke to find that Ms. C. Sanders had emailed me to let me know that the gown she’d been working on for me was completed. I didn’t dare open the photos until I’d properly caffeinated myself. I wanted to be fully “there.”
I’m so glad I did wait, because I wouldn’t’ve had the energy to properly squee, otherwise.
Isn’t she gorgeous?! She’s deceptively simple, and I like that. I told Ms. Sanders that I wanted something neo-Victorian in the truest sense – a dress that balanced modern and Victorian elements. I wanted something pastel and feminine, something that would stand out (just a little) from the jewel- and earth-tones that seem perennially popular with anachronists of all stripes. (Although I then turned right around and bought an emerald green walking gown just a few weeks later. I have to embrace my contradictions – otherwise, I’ll just go mad.)
Now, this is the best part of the gown – the top isn’t meant to be devoid of decoration, not really.
Ms. Sanders and I talked about the fact that First Victorian ladies used to dress their gowns with live flowers, and wondered why that idea had fallen out of fashion. The bodice of this gown, therefore, is designed to support sprays of flowers – faux or real. So I can order fantastic bouquets, tear them apart, and go to town! (I shall pretend that they are from my admirers. Yes.)
Some ladies like cogs. I prefer to present myself as the very personification of nature reclaiming the once-vaunted halls of technology in a post-apocalyptic world. Or something. (Really, I just like flowers.)