
Wedding Planning By The Dart - June 2011
Wedding Planning By The Dart - June 2011
An unmarried woman in recent possession of a diamond must be in want of a dress.
And mine was a good diamond. I’d felt nervous as Nick drove me into Exeter to pick one of the two rings he’d put aside – what if I liked neither? I have been known to be fussy.
Fortunately my fear was short-lived. Mortimer’s on Queen Street is the only antique jewellers in Devon and its navyblue frontage frames a window display that would dazzle even the most devout bachelor. Like a glittering sweet shop but with pearls instead of mint imperials and rubies in the place of cola cubes, it’s a bride-to-be’s dream. Quite how Nick had found it I have no idea – but I was lucky he had – and as the charming man behind the counter placed the first ring onto my finger, I knew I didn’t need to see the second.
I flicked over the price tag ....no wonder he was charming....I’d be a permanent delight if someone spent that much money when they came into my shop!
But you had to hand it to him, the ring was a beauty; an 1801 diamond set in a band of platinum that tapered to a delicate point on either side of the stone. For a moment I felt like the old lady from the movie Titanic, clutching at the Heart of the Ocean, the jewel that society covets. And then Nick spoke, “So you like it?” My dream of marriage to Leonardo di Caprio shattered and I looked from my anxious fiancée to the ring. “I love it,” I said. Who needs Hollywood.
So I had the good diamond; what then of the dress?
Now here the fun – and I should warn you, the trauma – really begin. Dress shopping is not to be taken lightly ladies and if you are feeling at all emotionally unstable before you head out, you should seriously rethink. Or at least have a cup of tea, relax and gather your strength and your chosen companions. (Mother, mother-in-law and a bridesmaid, in my case).
We set out to our first port of call – Truly Delightful in Totnes.
If a window display was to rival Mortimer’s this would be it. The shop’s full length bow window curves onto the street and seduces the passerby with swathes of crushed silk, chiffon and lace trimmings that cry out Swan Lake.
Jenny has worked at Truly Delightful for twenty years. It was her friend Linda (both pictured above) who originally opened the shop - but although Linda still helps out – Jenny now owns and runs the business.
“We’ve known each other since we were five,” says Jenny. “We used to sit together at school. You know when you like someone from an early age but can’t quite articulate it – or you don’t really know why – until you’re older. It was rather like that.” And it is clear that the two ladies share one passion above all others – the passion for wedding dresses.
“You must try all styles – you won’t know what suits you until you’ve tried them all.” I was piled into the changing room followed by about ten dresses, which seemed to march in after me of their own accord and so the marathon began. But it was a pleasant marathon – if there is such a thing. The dressing room at Truly Delightful is a treasure trove of wedding memorabilia. Photos adorn the walls, complete with ‘thank you’ messages sent by grateful brides. Rails of dresses for alteration tower to the ceiling and Linda sits at her sewing machine as you try on – offering her own advice through a mouthful of pins. What was so appealing was that she would tell you when something didn’t suit you, “Oh goodness no, that’s not right – that dress wears you.”
And every so often I would poke my head back into the shop so that my audience could add their thoughts. Not that they were paying much attention – the mothers were busy trying on every hat in the window display.
Truly Delightful was the first, but not the last of my appointments. A quick synopsis of other experiences follows:
The Bridal Box, Torquay
Owned and run by Helen – a very down to earth lady, who even makes some dresses from scratch – she made her own she tells me. I just took mum this time and thank goodness because the selection was vast and we only had two hours on the car. I very nearly bought my dress here; great value and superb service – a definite recommend.
The Bridal Emporium, Exeter
I went by myself to this one. It’s actually quite hard to try on wedding dresses without that honest opinion of a close friend or relative to set you on track. What also didn’t help was that all the sample dresses seemed to come in size 16 at their smallest and by the time I’d been pinioned in and air-lifted onto the pedestal in front of the mirror, I felt as if I’d been eaten alive by a taffeta blancmange.
The Modern Brides Show, ExCel, Lon don
I was coming back late on the train from London and flicking through the Evening Standard when I noticed that they were offering free tickets to this bridal show to the first 50 texters. “Worth a try” I thought and obediently typed the word Bride (talk about original) into my handset and pressed send. The next day I received an email telling me that I’d won tickets – that never happens – so mum and I nipped along to check out the exhibition. The highlight was a live fashion catwalk and the girls did look wonderful. However it’s quite a task trying to imagine yourself in a dress worn by a series of six foot tall, Jessica Alba lookalikes and even more so when you can’t then actually try the dresses on afterwards. “Here have a card,” the gushing stall attendants said thrusting one into my hands. And what use is a card to me I ask you? I can’t wear that down the aisle can I?
With unsuccesful forays into Bristol and Hampshire, I find myself back at Truly Delightful – just in the nick of time before the VAT hike – for a second try of the first dress I had seen. As I walk the length of the shop with its skirts swooshing around me I notice a couple of faces peeping in through the white lattice from the street outside and hoped they too were thinking Swan Lake. Or at least not, “Clueless”!
As I leave the shop – poorer for the deposit I’d paid, but richer in spirit – Jenny holds the door for me, “You’ve cracked the top of the pyramid,” she smiles at me, “it’s all downhill from here. It all flows naturally outwards – you’ll see things and think ‘ah – that would go so brilliantly....’ Well done.”
And I do feel rather proud for a moment. But then I have always been rather good at shopping.
First Published June 2011 By The Dart