A princess dress from the past
I donated my wedding dress to Lifeline the other day. I’d been thinking about it for a while but I was never quite ready. It was symbol of my other life; that married life I ended almost seven years ago.
The dress has been hiding out in a suitcase, on top of a bookcase, in my study. And every now and then I’ve looked at that suitcase and thought, what am I going to do with that dress.
I don’t think there is a huge market for a wedding dress worn once in 1995. And I’ve always thought that some bride-to-be would think my own marriage bad luck would rub off on them if they wore my dress. I would definitely think that way if it was me.
But then one day I realised it was time to let it go. It was a symbol of a time that has now passed. And like all things we hold on to for a bit too long, maybe I needed to let it go so something new could come into my life.
Of course, I had to try it on again first.
When I took it out of the box it was just as perfect and beautiful as the first time I wore it. It was all ivory satin and tulle with gold patterns across the bodice. It was still a fairytale princess dress.
But the princess dress no longer fitted me. I’m probably two sizes bigger than I was back then so I couldn’t get the zip up. Still, I could imagine what it would like if I was just that little bit slimmer.
For a few moments I was my 22 year old self again and I remembered the romance and optimism and everything else I felt when I wore that dress for the first time.
I remembered my garter falling off as I got out of the wedding car just before I began my walk to the rotunda and my beloved.
I remembered my bridesmaid holding my skirt up so I could go to the toilet at the reception venue (there was just so much tulle and then a petticoat with more tulle still).
But most of all I remembered the hope that was attached to that dress and to every wedding – the hope for love and commitment forever.
Strangely though, none of these of feelings were melancholic. I didn’t feel sad or depressed. Instead I remembered all those things with joy.
And as I drove to Lifeline to donate my dress I felt uplifted and released and full of hope that my time for love is not yet done.
The Lifeline ladies were grateful for my donation and one said, ‘It must be hard to give it (the dress) up.’
I said, ‘No. It’s time.’
And as I drove home I thought again, ‘Yes. It is my time.’