“Mommy!” C.J. yelled as he entered my bedroom with his usual flourish. He was freshly bathed and in his fleece Monster High pajamas. I was lounging on my bed reading People Magazine, when I should have been doing the laundry.
“Yes….how may I help you?” I asked, not looking up from my reading.
“Where’s your wedding dress?”
“In the garage. Why?” I said, setting my magazine down.
“Can I have it?”
Now, when I married C.J.’s Dad in 2000, the absolute last thing I wanted to wear was my mother’s wedding dress from the 1960s — with its Victorian neckline, poufy shoulders and long tight sleeves made of lace with a daisy design.
My mother didn’t want me to wear her dress either. Thankfully. Under the watchful eye of my brother and his then-boyfriend, I selected my wedding dress and promised myself that I would not keep it for the daughter that I might have. No way. No how.
But, after the wedding and honeymoon were over I didn’t have the heart to trash my dress. And, I couldn’t bear to donate it either. I also didn’t want to pay the $200 fee to have it dry-cleaned and professionally preserved. So I put it in big plastic storage bin and put it in the garage. I’d deal with it later.
Then I got pregnant and the thought crossed my mind that we might have a girl and she might want to at least see and try on my dress. I decided to keep it awhile longer. We had a boy. Then I got pregnant again. It might be a girl. It wasn’t. There was officially no need for me to keep my wedding dress.
Two years ago we had a neighborhood garage sale and I half-heartedly hung it out for the highest bidder. Nobody wanted it — which made me kind of sad. But, then again, I didn’t really want it either. I thought about selling it on eBay or Craigslist, but that seemed like such a process. If you know me, you know that I hate a process. We had another garage sale a year later. Still, nobody wanted my dress. It continues to sit — ripped and dirty — in the big plastic bin in the farthest corner of our garage waiting for me to decide what to do with it.
“Sooooo…can I have it? Please say yes, please say yes,” C.J. asked again, bouncing up and down.
My heart and brain skipped a beat. Somebody wanted my wedding dress!
“Yes. You can.”
“Can I have it right now?” he asked.
“No, but when you are a little bit older, you can have it. I promise.”
“Yay!!!!” He skipped out of the room.
I pictured my son trying on my wedding dress in the years to come. I’d surprise him and show him my tiara and veil as well. He would look beautiful in it. More importantly, he would feel beautiful in it. I pictured him, sometime later, deconstructing the dress and making an entirely new garment or two out of it. I smiled a big smile at the thought.
My son wants my wedding dress and he can do anything he wants with it. Wear it, cut it, rip it, whatever. I’m glad that I didn’t purge the dress before I had kids. I’m glad that I resisted the urge once I had only boys. Because my boy loves fashion, lace, beading and all things princess-like. And, he wants my dress and he’s going to love it.