PROLOGUE:
Year 2004. Maree, my Australian mate and I walked up and down the exclusive end of High Street in Toorak, Melbourne, in search of a wedding gown for her daughter, Natasha. My jaw almost dropped at the astronomical prices on the tags of ready-made bridal gowns that had more zeros than one’s average savings. The price escalated if it was made-to-order (A Ukrainian immigrant claimed she had “bespoke stitching” that she learned in the exclusive atelier of the Russian court). One had to pay extra for the veil, the matching purse, gloves, garter, and other bridal frou-frou. We didn’t like any of the gowns we saw. “Oh, dear, what do we do?” sighed Maree. “I am getting nervous.”
THE MISSION:
I thought of Katrina Goulbourn in Manila and mapped out a plan: Katrina would design and make the gown and Tash would fly to Manila for the final fitting. In 10 days, the bride and her mother would fly back to Melbourne with the finished gown. The schedule was tight but Katrina was confident it could be done. “Yes, Tita, I can make her gown.” Maree and I exchanged glances and cried, “Let’s do it!” The sketches and teeny-weeny details had to be done through the Internet, thus launching the first e-commerce transaction between Manila and Melbourne involving a wedding gown.
THE LEADING LADIES:
For the bride, Natasha Waldron, it was a string of firsts: The first wedding in the family, the first daughter to tie the knot, the first wedding invitation that included a strict and serious request to all the guests: “No gifts,” and the first trip of the bride to Manila.
For the designer, Katrina Goulbourn, it was also a chain of firsts: Her first Australian bride, the first gown she designed through the Internet and the first gown that had no series of fittings.
PRELIMINARIES:
Bride Natasha scanned pictures of gowns from bridal magazines so that Katrina would have an idea of her dream gown. Katrina immediately understood Natasha’s fashion preference and e-mailed five sketches. Details were discussed via the Internet and after a week, Natasha made her choice.
A detailed “body form” figure of Natasha had to be made so Natasha requested one of her colleagues at Country Road Clothing Store to take her measurements. Natasha had to sit, stand, raise her arms, fold them and stand on tiptoe to get the exact measurement. This was again e-mailed to Katrina.
Katrina buckled down to work with her team of assistants, seamstresses and beaders. The material, lining, beads and crystals were extensively discussed.
DAY ONE:
Natasha and Maree arrived in Manila.
DAY TWO:
Natasha met Katrina for the first time and the lining was ready for fitting. Everything looked horrible. The stiff petticoat had a life of its own. The drape effect that was supposed to curve around the bodice of Natasha wasn’t curving properly. There were too many dizzying pleats as well.
Surprisingly, both designer and bride stayed calm. Looking around the atelier, someone caught two women huddled in the corner biting their nails. It was Maree (the mother of the bride) and I. Having been there once, Maree and I recognized the tension that could consume anyone in sight. Biting our nails seemed to help.
DAY THREE:
Natasha went to a jewelry shop to choose the wedding bands. She chose one in yellow gold with tapered baguettes for the bride. Jenny Dizon promised to finish them in five days. The groom’s ring size was enormous.
Natasha wanted special bridal mules made so I took her to a bridal fair in one of the Makati hotels and got hold of a shoe manufacturer who assured me that the mules could be rushed at no extra cost. After choosing the design and height of the heels, we decided to make a down payment. The owner was not around so we were asked to return the following day.
Natasha also ordered a special gift bag to use for her giveaways (Australian wine) and the paper manufacturer promised to finish them in one month. That meant that I had to air-courier the wine bags to Melbourne.
DAY FOUR:
We returned to the bridal fair to make a deposit to the shoe lady but were shocked when told that the price had suddenly gone up. The difference was so drastic that I wanted to cancel the order. But Natasha needed the bridal shoes to match her gown and there wasn’t much time left. Reluctantly, we paid. I wanted to hurl bolts of lightning at the shoe lady. She gave a bad, unprofessional image of Filipino artisans.
DAY FIVE:
Natasha went for another fitting. The gown was taking shape. Katrina removed the tulle lining and the gown fell softly on Natasha’s delicate frame. The bride was complaining of putting on weight from too many mangoes and native desserts but when she tried on the lining, her waist had actually shrunk. The waist had to be tucked in and the pleats readjusted. The mother of the bride sported a worry frown; so did I. The nail biting continued.
DAY SIX:
I took Maree and Tash around Tagaytay with lunch at a pretty herb and fruit garden. We all thought that was a relaxing break.
DAY SEVEN:
The wedding bands were delivered and Natasha loved them.
DAY EIGHT:
The shoe lady sent the skeletal heel for fitting. It fitted like a glove. What a shame that the high quality of her workmanship was so unlike her botched work ethic.
DAY NINE:
Katrina’s bridal team worked intently to finish the intricate beading on the bodice. Natasha tried the gown on for the last time. Oh, gosh! She looked like a bride. Maree and I were reduced to sentimental blobs.
DAY 10:
Natasha and Maree bade us goodbye with the wedding gown in tow. Katrina gave strict instructions to store the gown flat until the wedding day.
EPILOGUE:
Natasha was a glowing, beaming bride in her Katrina Goulbourn-designed wedding gown. The wedding bands were so pretty that the groom ordered a matching pair of baguette earrings for the bride. The bridal mules fitted perfectly but I would not recommend that shoe lady for obvious reasons. The gift bags suffered two delays because of lack of material. When they were eventually couriered, it was 15 pieces less than the original order. Of course we found that out too late.
Two out of four? Not bad for a first on first.
Contented, relieved and looking none the worse for wear, Maree, the mother of the bride, headed straight to her favorite nail-sculpting center for a manicure. “Maree,” I chuckled, “I needed one, too.” P.S.
2009: Maree called from Melbourne: “Letty! I’m going to be a lola!”