Friday, May 4, 2012

Foxmorton and the Cursed Wedding Gown.......

Oh, oh, we're

go-in' to the cha-pel and
gonna get ma-a-ar.........
*insert metaphoric extended screech-squeal-reverb of bad brakes
followed by several moments of slow motion nerve wracking silence
ending with sickening crunch of steel and glass impact into unforgiving brick wall-
SFX- explosion.  Enhance with imagined smell of gasoline*

So yeah,  the chapel never happened.
That was yesterday.
Today it's nine years later.

Time flies, eh?

But it's still here.  The dress, you see.
Just hanging there on a big ol' nail behind the second bedroom door.
Occasionally making snide remarks, mostly on rainy, Sunday afternoons.

A second bottle of Merlot used to taunt me into putting it on.
"Venir Foxmorton, mon ivresse peu chou-mis sur la robe-personne ne va le savoir ......"
Always a pretty sight, you think?
Three quarters of the way, head first into your cups, Sunday hair in a top knot pony tail, day off granny undies and the dog-who is supportive on the worst of days-graciously averting his eyes.

But those days come less now.  So much less.  (Years now, actually.)
In fact, the only reason I dragged her out was to follow through on a recent Miss Havisham kick that made me think:  What *should* I do with this dress?

I do love it so.
Heavy (oh, sooooo heavy!) ecru satin....crosshatched front and back....hand sewn pearls into each wee cross
 and miles of lace to die for.
I recall the day I purchased it.....all full of dreams.
But the person who was to fulfill them no longer exists....if he ever did.
And that's ok.
I'm over him.
Been over him for ages.
But I just can't get over the dress.

It's storybook garb, no doubt.
Infused with magic, faerie dust and wild violet petals, promises of  the most flawless of repeating twirls in the garden.....and now, a wee bit of Miss Havisham as well.
My absolute favorite part is when the back is gathered into the most perfectly enormous bustle.
When that bustle is gathered I could wear that dress forever!

But, all that aside,I'm quite sure that it's haunted.
And I'm serious when I say that.
I mean, how else would such a perfect dress have come to be owned by me?
It would be just like Foxmorton to acquire a cursed wedding dress.
And, in the months after its purchase, so many things went frightfully wrong that it never fulfilled its destiny.
And it looks like a ghost, I think, all forbidding and spectral.
Because, let's face it, it was indeed stitched with only one purpose in mind.
You can stretch your imagination all you like but there is isn't any thing else you could
imagine this dress doing.
(Although years back I did have an offer to hoist it up the mast of a pirate ship.
Seriously.  And now, thinking back, I rather regret that I didn't.)

Also, not a lot of call for haunted wedding gowns on eBay.

So along with the dress, I get to keep the curse as well.

So now......time to *do* something with it.

If it will let me.

The color needs to change.....the lace distressed......
The bustle needs to be stuffed and made permanent......
It needs sleeves.......
It needs a high neck...........

It needs to move on........

What say you all........?

Go-in' to the chap-el of love-
yeah, yeah
Goin' to the chap-el
of love..............

~MF 2012


Teresa said...

I love it! I have to say, it's so true that those perfect dreams we have really aren't real. We alter the way we see people to make them seem like our perfect dream. After a while the reality kicks in and we see those faults and if we're lucky, it's before the wedding dress has been worn. It's a lucky woman indeed that sees those faults up front and can find one to love despite the faults (assuming the faults are worth overlooking).

Merlyn Fuller said...

Dear Fox. When I recently posted my version of the "Miss Havasham" dress on my FB, I agree, it was stunning. This dress of yours is also stunning. We've talked a lot about it in the past, your dress, our choice of men in the past, our Cinderella fantasies, Prince Charming who can't possibly live up to his reputation. This story of yours was very brave. I will not tell you to "burn it and sprinkle it over his grave" as you did me for a similiar cursed memory. But it does need to happen in it's way, I suppose. It's good and right to do so. To dig into our memory banks, to examine the life that was, is not and never will be. And thank the Gods for that too, eh? Mayhaps this dress is not a "curse" so much as a "blessing". This dress is here to remind you that you escaped like Fox with her paw in the jaws of a steel trap. It's easier to get into a marriage....than out. This dress is your left front paw. The one without a ring. The one you still run with today. Your "feminine-left hand". YOU. Nay, I will not say to burn it. Nor destroy it. But rather, to re-invent it. As you say, to make a permanent bustle...give yourself the "Vroom" that you would have. Add the high lace collar. Add the large Titanic hat with cabbage roses. From my experience, dying certain fabrics...especially those of a non-cotton origin, never "take" in the way that you wish. But do try it if you like. I would suggest a beige color, to give it the "off white" and creamy Victorian ambiance it is dying for. Mayhap the words that you hear emmanating from this dress whispered in your ears, are just it's cries for new life and to "turn down the hook in the back" much like the scarecrow on his post in The Wizard of Oz. It wants OUT. It does not want to be a permanent monument to injustice, but rather a testimony to feminine ingenuity, fortitude and desire to be gorgeous in it's own right.

SO...I suggest dying it BEIGE. Adding the long lace sleeves with hand coverings. High neck collar. Add a delicious antique cameo and a pink waist sash, to be fastened underneath the most delightful bustle in the back. Complemented by a Batenburg lace parasol.

And a long string of pearls.

And remember how far you have come, and also that YOU, my dear, are the one to die for. Not him.

Annie said...

Delightful story and quite glad you've moved on. I have my dress from my former marriage; it's folded away in a trunk. I think of doing something with it from time to time but it's too much effort. LOL