Friday, July 16, 2010

The OTHER Secret Project: REVEALED! - or also known as - The Wedding Lace Extravaganza

So when I would say before that "such and such a project started it ALL*" (here, and kinda here,). I was actually talking about this project. This lofty, inspiring, heart-warming, and utterly life-consuming project that is: The Wedding Lace.



About a year and a half ago, my best friend Meg asked me to be the maid of honor in her wedding. She was marrying her long-time boyfriend and another dear friend of mine, Jon. I was so thrilled I was literally speechless for a good 5 minutes, and it wasn't long before I knew I had to do something all out spectacularly wonderful to celebrate their union (besides throw a crazy bachelorette party!).

I soon decided what I was going to make as a wedding gift: hand-crocheted lace-edged handkerchiefs. One for Meg, one for me, one for her mother, one for each of the bridesmaids, and, fortunately for my sanity I stopped there.

It was entirely for this reason that I even attempted to learn how to crochet lace those many months ago. And thanks to my mother, The Complete Guide to Thread Crochet by Rita Weiss, and Fifty Beautiful Edgings by Terry Kimbrough, I was able, after a few months and many interesting test projects, to accomplish what I had set out to do.

The first step was to pick a lace pattern. The following pattern was my very first attempt, originally done in red and abandoned halfway through because I was too inexperienced to decipher the instructions without the careful guidance and hands-on-teaching of my mother. She patiently walked me through the first steps during a visit home, but as soon as I left I could no longer wade through the muddle myself (until I got the brilliant idea of calling her up at all hours of the night and day as my 24-hr crochet helpdesk). Later I reattempted this lace and was able to finish a length of it:


But it seemed to fussy for Meg. Good for someone else's wedding handkerchief, perhaps, but not hers. I tried another pattern which I quickly disregarded as inappropriate for handkerchiefs and turned into a headband instead.

The third pattern was the winner. It was just like Meg, lovely in its simple beauty (not like there is anything simple about Meg), and I knew would make the perfect handkerchiefs to celebrate her nuptials.


The next debate was about colors. White, ivory or ecru? How about slate blue, her wedding color? And the handkerchief fabric -- matching or contrast? Countless test pieces later...


I chose ecru lace on thin white muslin fabric.


And then came the real work.

With the first twelve inch length of lace, I finally figured out how to read the pattern properly. As I finished each new length, some overly bulky lace taught me all about maintaining proper thread tension.

As the months progressed, I counted and recounted my pieces, with the constant internal monologue: "Four lengths per handkerchief. Six handkerchiefs makes twenty-four lengths. Seven lengths finished, so the lace for one and three-quarters of a handkerchief is done. Seven months to the wedding, seventeen lengths of lace to go." When I was working at an efficient pace, I could finish a single length of twelve-inch lace in four hours.

But the months passed quickly, and construction was pretty slow since I was reluctant to bring the crocheting to the rig to work on in my downtime, fearing dirty hands and smudged lace. I finished all of the lace just over a month before the wedding date. Then I washed and blocked them all with stainless steel pins on my ironing board.


I purchased some high-quality, old-fashioned muslin, machine-hemmed some squares, and began sewing. Each length of lace. One at a time. By. Hand.


And all the while this was going on, I was in the process of selling all my furniture, packing up the rest of my belongings, and moving my entire life northward from Louisiana to Massachusetts (with stops in Florida & Pennsylvania along the way). By the time I had reached Boston, I had four handkerchiefs left to finish. By the time I made it to Meg's parents' house a few days before the blessed event, I had one and one half undone. By the night before the wedding, I was still had a two lengths left to sew on the final handerchief. So as Meg's father and aunt caught up on work they were missing, and Meg and Jon talked in the kitchen till one o'clock in the morning, I sewed and sewed and sewed, ducking my project out of sight should either of the couple or the bride's mother happen to wander by.

Huzzah! I finished them all in time. I did not have the luxury of an extra day to block them, so I used a hot iron with plenty of steam instead. It served its purpose admirably, and the handkerchiefs were folded, wrapped, and packed in my bag with the other 10 million things I had to take to the wedding.

I presented each lady with her handkerchief just before we all got dressed, and was just thrilled to see everyone enjoy my work. I had so much fun at Meg's wedding, and was happy just to have given her something to remind her of it.


And just for good measure, here's a small gallery of lace-handkerchief "money shots". It's enough to make one drool!







Haha, I ended up with the runt of the litter. I realized too late that the hastily-hemmed muslin was more trapezoidal than square, and I couldn't bear giving it as a gift to anyone. Regardless, it always makes me happy to see it (and helpfully wiped away a tear here and there that weekend).



* Author's Note: By "All", I have of course been referring to this blog and many of the projects described herein. To go back to the beginning of my craft life I would have to go all the way back to the dress I made at age twelve out of American Flag-printed calico whose pattern I traced by literally penciling an outline of another dress laid on the floor, and then stitched the entire thing together by hand. Unfortunately no evidence, neither physical or photographic remains of this historic piece, so you'll just have to take my word for it.

1 comment:

  1. Hey that's me! That was a really special gift, Holly =)

    ReplyDelete