Surrogate Mother

It's been a whirlwind couple of weeks as I've been finishing up all of the last minute things that come when a wedding is around the corner.  Things like getting nice and toasty with wine at a bachelorette party.  Getting so toasty that I was apparently really enjoying cutting out paper penises with a pair of tiny cuticle scissors for a game. (What is the plural for penis anyway?  Penuses? Penii?)  I was so toasty that I put on my baby sister's straw fedora-thing hat and started singing to myself... Baby sister recorded these performances!!! No, you will NOT get to see any of the incriminating evidence! (Unless, of course, I get a copy.  Then maybe.)

This past weekend we had the Jack'n'Jill bridal shower.  I'm pretty sure I was the only one who danced the entire time.  I had two beers, glass of white wine, Muscato, and some champagne.  ("CHAMPAGNE!") But I'm not writing this to confess my drunkenness to you.

I came here to talk about how I felt upon finishing Marilyn.  On Tuesday, May 14th, I felt like this:

*Kermit Flail* Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

I had completed every stitch.  Or so I thought.

When I was taking her to be delivered I remembered that I forgot to put the hooks on for the bustle.  My mother sacrificed a bra so I could get some white hooks.  Without my Ma (Pronounced, MAH! not Maw) I would have made a grave error in the finishing of this dress using silver hooks instead of white.  Ma saved me and a double bustle ended up happening on the skirt.

I also decided to go ahead and glue the swarovski crystals on. I'm glad I made that decision:

See swarovski. Pretty bling.

So, anyway,  I was sitting alone in my old bedroom.  It was the room that my sister, the bride, moved into when I got hitched.  I sat at the end of my sister's old bed working on the final stitches, snipping off loose threads.  I dunno... I just... Out of nowhere I started to feel this strange sort of melancholy.

I've dealt with clinical depression, but this, this was a really unfamiliar emotion.  Which is why I suspect I got a taste of what a surrogate mother may feel in that last hour of labor when they are giving birth to someone else's child. I knew from the start she was never going to be mine and I was totally ok with that - I have my own wedding dress, thankyouverymuch.  It was the impending loss, I think, but a good loss.

I worked closely with the bride creating the concept for the dress.  I felt elation when she tried on the third style mock-up for the first time and it was right. I'm sure it was same kind of happy feeling women who are trying to conceive feel when the pregnancy test turns up positive.  I felt the fear of losing the dress in those early stages when I had to perform that emergency surgery when I burned her (see: http://themagicgarment.blogspot.com/2013/04/what-do-rocky-and-goddess-kali-have-in.html ). So yeah, like pregnant women who feel a bond with their babies, I did feel a certain kind of attachment to this gown.

I've had attachments to clothes before, but this was special.  Maybe because it was the first (and for the record: ONLY) wedding dress I've made.  Maybe it was because it was for my sister and I needed it to be perfect.

Whatever the case, I was having a bittersweet moment in that bedroom.  She came in and we did the final dress fitting.  (Side note: How do you forget to put the veil on with the dress?  I dunno, but we did. HAH!)

When the final crystal was glued on she was swaddled in a garment bag, whisked away from my arms, and disappeared from my sight.  Yeah, I was definitely having a surrogate mother moment.

However, that was forgotten for a little while as I raided my mother's fridge for bridal party leftovers.  I ended up bringing home a big tray of white rice, smoked chicken, a tray of lasagna, black beans, cheese, chips, and about two dozen sodas.  Ah, Food, The Great Pacifier.

When I got home last night the finality of the loss didn't hit until I walked into the sewing room to put something away.

The purple dress form was bare.

The excited buzz that hung around Marilyn was gone.

The room was quiet.

At that moment waves and waves of emotion hit me.  There was the hint of sadness.  But above all there was abundant joy because I am confident the bride will look lovely on her wedding day.  My work there is complete.  I am content.  I will post complete pictures of Marilyn and the bride once I get pictures when they return from the wedding and honeymoon.

"What now?" you ask.

Now, I prepare myself for all the future projects.  My sewing and art room at wide open for whatever I want.  Corsets, corsets, more corsets, painting, a super sekret spechul project, more corsets, more canvas paintings, a dress for me, and maybe something for someone else.  I said MAYBE something for someone else.  I'll get a glass of muscato and think about it.

Right now,  I think I want to be selfish and make something for me...