UPCYCLED

 I like to post stories about how particular dresses were conceived and then put together. Not all custom-designed dresses are alike. Some have an uncomplicated birth journey. Once upon a time, each was a piece of fabric that was cut, then those cuts were joined together on a machine, followed by a lot of hand sewing to finish off. The dress in the header photo is an interesting example of upcycling. The rebirth of an upcycled dress is more of an odyssey. Upcycled is special.  Upcycled has lived other lives before finally finding her way to a forever home.   

I've been collecting vintage wedding dresses for years.  For many reasons. Mostly because I'm on a lace rescue mission.  Other than that, to get an up-close look at how these gemmies were made back in the day is a valuable lesson. Once folks found out I collected, the lacey donations started coming in. Some even kept an eye out for dresses from particular eras. These donations came mostly from my husband's parishioners (he is a minister). One, a dumpster diver working part-time in a local thrift store, salvaged a wedding dress from the early 1970s. It was all mine. First blush, I was figuring a way to apologize, to say  "Lurina, I think this piece might be better off back at the thrift store. . ." but I just couldn't say it. I reasoned the thrift store didn't want it either. Nobody wants wedding dresses from the 70s unless they're couture pieces.  But this wasn't couture.  It was mass-produced meringue, and a behemoth that would take up a lot of space. Regardless, I thanked her and took the stinker home. 

This dress, called GIGI, is still in the collection. Clients who come to me looking for an A-line usually want to try it on.  The underslip is satin with ruffled lace added, peeking out from under the hemline. I was inspired to create it while exploring 19th-century costumes the can can dancers wore — many lace-bordered slips they held high when they did their renowned kicks.   

The laces were not particularly pretty, but on closer inspection, they looked like okay candidates for underslips.   I ditched the scratchy organza and used the laces. There were yards of it. I did make that predicted underslip for a dress I was creating, inspired by 19th-century can-can dancers; it just needed a bit of ruffle peeking out of the hemline to complete it.  Lace in lieu of a ruffle worked beautifully. In fact, this recovered lace paired with the embroidered organza was the ideal touch.  

Eventually, the sample was sold, but the client didn't want the under slip.  Nothing to do with the lace, she simply thought the A-line looked better on its own sans the underslip.  So I was left with a satin underslip with ruffles and yards of ruffled lace.  The dress in the header photo is the result of an all-over lace high-neck blouse paired with that underslip and yards of lace used as a jabot and at the cuffs.  For those shopping  1970s couture, this is an ideal look.  Notice I say "couture".  There was a distinct difference between what high-end clothing looked like on the Paris runway and how it translated into mainstream bridal fashion in the 1970s.

Some second-time-around dresses are a bit like foster dogs. They go from shop to bride to thrift pile or garbage can. Depending on who comes to the rescue, some can experience a beautiful, revived life or lives.

CREDITS

Dresses: Amy-Jo Tatum Bridal Couture