The bride wore something borrowed, something blue …

Restless Jo and Tilly at The Laughing Housewife talked about wedding photos – in fact it’s Tilly (and Hub’s) wedding anniversary today, so it’s a good thing she did. Some readers were a little leery of posting, concerned about privacy.  I, on the other hand have no worries on that score.  We’re unrecognisable:  firstly, because the one photograph of that unbelievably happy day is badly degraded and exceptionally small, and secondly because it was so long ago!

I was a stubborn girl, determined that my memory would, could, provide instant feedback of all of life’s milestones.  Worse, I really believed I would remember everything I experienced.  For several blissful years I travelled the world, met and married this terrific guy, settled in a new country … all without a camera.  The only record I have of those years are prints given by friends.

But I do remember the 29th July, 1975.  It was a beautiful summer’s afternoon.  I left work early and dashed home with friends to change – a floor-sweeping calico sun dress and glorious Panama hat borrowed from a friend, sandals, and my bright blue beads.  I carried a small bunch of cornflowers.  We girls piled into Tom’s shiny red Thunderbird (quite forgetting there wasn’t much floor left for the back seats), and Craig played the guitar as I walked by myself down the aisle;  R waiting nervously for me down by the altar.  Everyone crammed into the Rector’s office for the signing, before we spilled out onto the pavement, crushing rose petals as we organised ourselves into cars back to the house for a barbecue.  R’s parents wouldn’t come – it was an Anglican church, you see – and Ma and Papa were on the other side of the world.  I thought if one set of parents weren’t there, perhaps it would be better to have none (mistake!  I think Ma only forgave me on her death-bed.).

Before the week was out we found the Marriage Certificate, crumpled from the washing machine, in R’s jeans’ pocket;  within two we were on our way to Paris, and then Amsterdam, at the beginning of our first shared adventure.  What a way to start a marriage!

We had twenty wonderful years together, and great friendship since.

58 thoughts on “The bride wore something borrowed, something blue …

  1. terrific photo, and a wonderful story of fun and love and friends! funnily i was married in calico too, and only one set of parents were at the wedding …. a big boo boo, but we had eloped and had no idea my parents would find out and not tell his parents … oh dear, the seventies!!!

    • Eloped? Not to that place just cross the border in Scotland, I hope, like lll those Regency stories?

      Weren’t we a bunch of blithely careless creatures? Frankly, I think I must have been insufferable! Certainly Ma said so, continually, and there was usually more than a grain of truth in what she used to harp on about …

  2. Doesn’t sound dissimilar to mine! Although ten years earlier. We got married on the other side of the world (Sydney) so no-one (ie parents) was there – and that was a good thing.

    Love the frock.

    • Hey, roughseas, I’ve just found this two plus week old conversation we were having about our weddings! I can imagine it was a good thing, not having the whole shebang of parents and everything, but were you forgiven? Mum only forgave me on her deathbed, can you imagine holding a grudge that long?

      Love it that you got married in Sydney, while me, the Sydney girl, married in Canada …

      • I think I was 😉 But of course she couldn’t understand why I kept my own name. She never ever addressed anything through the post to us with two separate surnames, only ever first names. And then of course we had no children, so they were deprived of being grandparents. She used to ask why we had got married and sadly we didn’t know so couldn’t provide an answer there 😀

        • I’m glad you were forgiven, though her dissatisfaction – like my mother’s – was manifest in the litany of other things she perceived as wrong – name, but above all, no children. In Ma’s case, the no kids issue became quite ugly around the time of menopause. I can laugh now, but boy …:)

  3. Wonderful! Thanks for taking this up. I never used to carry a camera either but find that if I venture out of the house without one these days, I’m guaranteed to “see” a perfect shot.
    Once again- many thanks.

  4. Love the story….so romantic! And the two of you look so beautiful and happy! You might be interested to know that R & I were married exactly 22 days later 🙂

  5. It’s faded, yes, and bit discolored, too, but I can see you. I see in your’s and R’s faces what no amount or damage or deterioration can take away from a human expression.

    You look lovely, Mere. The day you described sounds wonderfully tumultuous and . . . real I guess is the word I am looking for: coming home, changing, piling into a car with those dearest to you. Wow — Amsterdam and Paris; your adventures make me smile.

    Thank you for sharing your story with us.

    ~ Cara

    • You’re right – the shoes weren’t very pretty, were they? Though I rarely spent money on clothes, every penny I could was saved toward South America – that is, until R persuaded me to go with him, back to Europe, then it was saving to spend as long as we could in Europe!

      It’s wonderful how youth made us all beautiful, eh?

  6. Wonderfully visual…
    I did mine in Wurzburg Germany in 76′
    no parents, neither set was happy, but we were immortal back then

    great memory and picture….faded photgraphs are the best of life I think sometimes
    Take Care

      • yes were LOLs..
        I was stationed there…at Hindenburg Kaserne
        I started running away at 12, hitch hiked to Caada, Colrado,(rodeoed in between LOls) headed to Woodstock ( didn’t make it, ended up in a school for problem children, thats a nice way of saying brat, not bad enough for refor school,) and then when my mom got transferred from texas to South Carolina, I knew the only way to escape would be join the Army, yes we were immortal during those days….
        I lovd Germany, but then I have a gypsy soul…this is the first time in my life I have stayed so long in one place…but I am feeling that draw to head to England again …

  7. What a nice story! Do you have any children? My parents eloped in Europe in 1968. My dad was traveling for three months, missed my mom so bad that he called her and asked her to come. Little did he know, she was coming to marry him!

    • Ahha! Well, the “cool couple” (I love that, I don’t ever remember us being called that before) spent about a year on the road that time. Bits and pieces slip out from time to time Patti – don’t want to always be living in the past, though I fear those days are approaching way too fast!

  8. Do you know, we hardly have any photos of our wedding, either, but we are just about to celebrate our 25th anniversary. Isn’t it strange how you remember the little details, however quiet and “homely” the event was… In fact, I remember big, “splashy” events less clearly, it all washes over my head. Our nephew is getting married in Newcastle, UK in September, and that’s going to be a fancy affair. My husband loves them, but then he is more outgoing than me… Your post was very touching. I am glad you are still friends…

    • Me too! Wouldn’t it be too terrible to have spent 20 years of ones life with a person you couldn’t be friends with any more? Like having to nullify, or cauterise half (or a third now) of your life!

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