Designing bridal veil also makes memories

One of the most pleasant requests I received in June was: “Will you make my bridal veil?” That question was asked by the young woman who became my daughter-in-law recently. The answer, needless to say, was a joyous “Yes.”

We met at a local fabric shop one evening after work to buy bridal veiling.

I arrived at the store first and wandered around the aisles letting my fingers do the shopping. I fondled a silky lime green polyester print studded with three-dimensional organdy rosettes. I drooled over a white linen-look fabric machine-embroidered with flowers and with eyelets threaded with narrow lavender ribbon. I coveted a bolt of indigo blue dress-weight cotton decorated with rows of matching ruching terminating in small roses.

I kept wishing I had won the lottery or the bingo jackpot so I could afford to say, “Three yards of that, and two of this and five of that. Oh, heck, I’ll take every bolt on that shelf.”

But all I bought was two yards of lavender chiffon to make into a wrap to wear over my mother-of-the-groom dress, a splendid blue-lavender confection with beaded bodice and a long skirt with an organdy overlay.

In the special occasion section of the fabric shop we found several choices of veiling – the traditional white and ivory, white studded with small clear beads, white or ivory with an iridescent sheen and white with glittery sparkles. The veiling also came in a rainbow of colors – grape, watermelon, lemon, lime, cherry – so scrumptious the colors looked good enough to eat.

We chose traditional white tulle, 108 inches wide, so quintessentially bridal in all its frothy, poufy, airy glory. And it cost less than $5 for two yards.

The 24-inch-long veil I made had two layers. It was attached to a beaded strap detached from the bride’s wedding gown. I removed the light blue beads from the other strap and sewed those, placed randomly, to the top layer of the veil. Most of the veil-making task was little more than basting stitches using needle and thread and a bit of judicious cutting to round the edges of the tulle.

The bride and I had seen similar veils in shops for a whole lot more money than what we paid for veiling.

The bride decided on a short veil because the back of her wedding dress was lavishly decorated with pale blue beads arranged in a V that ended at knee-point on the gown’s long skirt. She didn’t want to obscure all that artful loveliness.

But making the veil was about more than having fun with fabric. That evening, we made a lovely memory that will become one of the stories my beautiful new daughter-in-law and I will tell about her wedding day.

Snippets

. The Web site www.skinnersisters.com is an online e-zine for embroidery enthusiasts. Issues may be downloaded and printed for personal use. The site features Little Lessons in Needlework and a Stitch Online series that focuses on blackwork, samplers, Victorian stitching and costume.

. View fiber postcards at www.virginiaspiegel.com.

Ardeana Hamlin may be reached at 990-8153, or e-mail ahamlin@bangordailynews.net.

Common Threads

I like to knit, but the only other needlework I do is darn my socks. It was with some interest that I read the By Hand column of May 24 about your grandfather darning holes in his clothes. I, too, have found that darning cotton is a thing of the past and that we are expected to throw out old socks instead of darning the hole in the toe or heel. A needlework artist in Portland gave me what darning cotton she had and recommends that once I use it up, I try embroidery thread. I think it’s time to rise up and loudly demand the return of darning cotton. – Ann Fogg of Monroe