It was 20 years ago today …

On April 4, 1987 I became a Cook. After growing up a Ronzitti, I never thought anyone would ask, "How do you spell that?" ever again. I was wrong. I've been wrong a lot over the last 20 years. But that's OK. DH is patient, forgiving, and very generous of time and spirit. We've been up, down, and all around like any marriage, any family. But the good far, far outweighs any rough days and I know we'll be growing old together.

Sewing related, my paternal grandmother made my wedding dress. She took some measurements, looked at my bride magazine clippings, and then took me shopping in the NYC garment district — the former, more bustling and plentiful district that it was back then. We trudged in and out of shops where she had long-established relationships. (All of my grandparents were either NY natives or immigrants through Ellis Island into NYC and knew the City well.) I had given her general ideas of my dream gown but that's as far as my "authority" went.

After that, she picked the fabrics, laces, beads, pearls, buttons, netting, and whatever else she knew would be perfect. After all, this wasn't her first wedding gown. Before mine, she had made her own (of course), her own daughter's, two for her future daughters-in-law (one being my mother's), and countless others for close friends and extended family. Our last stop that day was for me to be professionally fitted into a "Merry Widow" long-line strapless bra because she knew to start with the proper foundation even if I didn't at that point.

My grandmother was a professional tailor/dressmaker, and her work was the definition of couture, although I didn't know it at the time (shame on me!). To me, grandma just sewed. She always had a project in her hands, making the most tiny, precise stitches almost automatically. (If only I could go back in time for some lessons!)

Most of the construction of my dress was done with only those hands, and without any pattern to guide her. She spents hours and hours on the lace and beadwork alone. The edges of my multi-tiered veil were hand-rolled. Each of the 48 buttons up the back and 12 on each sleeve were covered and stitched on individually. The delicate button loops were fashioned from tubes of the dress fabric. There'd be no zippers on this dress! My crinoline underneath was another project. She did all of this long-distance as she lived in NY at the time and I was in Virginia. I only knew what was happening from her letters and telephone calls and I could only hope that she had really understood what I was dreaming of.

Finally, it was time to travel back to NY for a visit and the final fitting. Yes, final. No muslin, no intermediate fittings. The dress was done, waiting for me, and the fabric had not yet touched my body.

Of course, it fit perfectly, and was just as I had been imagining. I was definitely Princess for the day, and on the arm of my Prince Charming.

Happy Anniversary Mike, and thank you grandma!