I think people wanted to see The Wedding Coat more than anything else at our reception, so without further ado, here it is.
Extra special thanks again to Marline’s Momma, who made this coat of dupioni silk. She really crafted an amazing work of artistic couture.
All I had to do was add some organza and tulle to finish it up.
Here is a simple riddle for you: What takes 25 yards of dupioni silk, 80 yards of tulle, and 50 yards of organza to create? If you guessed my wedding reception coat, you’d be correct. I won’t even begin to calculate the hours of labor that went into it between myself and Marline’s Momma, who did most of the sewing. (She is amazing.)
For my part, I created the train and immense tulle underlay (all 80 yards of it). The hundreds of organza ruffles had to be individually hand-sewn by yours truly, but with customary diligence and planning I finished them all a while back, filling four large bags with the whimsical frills before applying them to the train.
The only problem is that it’s not quite conducive to walking, not so much because of the weight but rather the immensity and bulkiness of all that tulle and fabric (it actually requires that I be buckled into it.) Basically, I won’t be wearing it for long. However, it practically stands on its own, so I don’t even need to be inside it for people to enjoy its beauty.
It was, as it always is, a labor of love.
Pink Jacket by Brooks Brothers. Pink striped tie by Robert Graham.
Pink shoes by Ted Baker.
These are but two of the pairs I’ll be wearing this weekend. (Because pink goes good with green.)
There’s also a pair of black wingtips that I’ll wear to dinner at Mistral.
The lime green moccasins were purchased over fifteen years ago, and are serving as the ‘something old’ every bride needs.
I’m not usually a fan of vintage clothing (I can’t stand the smell), but once in a while I’ll delve into the second-hand shops and see what I can find. This has resulted in the acquisition of a favorite kimono from Chicago, a Jean Paul Gaultier denim jacket from Boston, and an infamous corset from San Francisco.
I was also given the beautiful vintage silk dressing gown in these photos from my friend Rob. I take it out when I need a day of decadence, and with the house-bound weather we’ve had of late, it was definitely that time. Coupled with a book, a cup of green tea, and a comfy conversation couch covered in fluffy pillows and a thick, plush blanket, it is a moment of self-indulgence. I know some may dismiss my obsession with robes and clothing as silly, so if this is you, please move on to another site.
There are a number of my friends who don’t understand my love of fashion, or why it means so much to me, and I guess when you look at it in comparison with devastating earthquakes, impending tsunamis, or even a killer killer whale, it may seem frivolous and superficial.
That said, there is a deep, profound effect that fashion can have on the world, and for me it’s the same way that beauty and art will always be an important and necessary part of humanity. It can be a brush with the sublime, and it moves me more than I could ever fully convey.
It’s just as valid as any other hobby or passion, if not more-so. It’s the way we present ourselves to the world, and a direct correlation to the respect we give to other people. Far from being a self-centered, self-serving obsession, it’s exactly what we think those around us deserve to see. If you go around in sweats and ripped T-shirts, you must not care enough about your fellow human beings to put any effort into what they are seeing.
At its simplest, wearing something decent makes me want to be a better person. It’s something I do to impress others, to make an impact, to show that I am willing to put an effort into my appearance – and I do it as much for other people as I do for myself.
