Not too long ago, my BFF was planning her wedding. She wanted the day to be special but with so much 'input' coming from her fiancé, her parents, her siblings, and his parents, she let go of everything except the decision on what her wedding dress would look like.
A moot point, right? I mean, who else has the right to decide what the bride should wear on her wedding day other than the bride herself? No one, right! So my friend did her research, and decided she would be wearing a short dress. Little did she know that she would be paying homage to fashion icon Coco Chanel who introduced the short wedding dress in the 1920s. It was just after World War 1, frugality was in, and shorter hemlines were slowly replacing the extravagant ankle length wedding gowns. The practicality of less fabric meant that the popularity of shorter lengths for wedding dresses was gaining ground with the general public, but it was when Coco Chanel released a white knee length dress worn with a long train that it became established.
Unfortunately, my friend didn't have all this history when she went out and bought a beautiful knee length confection of lace and chiffon. Maybe if she did, the dress would have made it to the altar with her. When she took the dress home, there was an uproar. She was asked if she wanted to disgrace the family? Didn't she know she was about to become someone's wife? Why would she be showing off her husband-to-be's goods to the world? A couple of aunties even bandied about some uncharitable names (Favour sang a song about those type of girls) and my friend submitted to 'wisdom' and returned the offensive garment for something more demure and wifely.
I didn't know any of this had happened. Some BFF I am, I know. You can imagine my surprise when I saw her on her wedding day, looking radiant in a beautiful, ankle length, ball gown of a dress.
Let's take a moment of silence for crushed wedding dreams... and ogle the beautiful wedding dresses in the gallery. That just may be the closest some of us will ever get to them.
