I’m a keen recycler – and there really is nothing that gives me more satisfaction than giving away to a person in real need something in good condition that has not been touched for several years. Once in a while I have an idea that renders me almost ecstatic in its appropriateness. The most memorable instance of this was my ‘wedding dress’ moment.
Ever since December 8th 1990, my lovely green taffeta wedding suit had languished in plastic-encased splendour at the end of our wardrobe apart from a single outing 4 years later, this time as a wedding guest. By the end of that particular feast, my girth had expanded to a level of button-popping discomfort. I vowed never to endure such torture again and the suit fell into disuse, apart from receiving the occasional nostalgic fondle…
From time to time I pondered the dilemma facing me. Why do we hang on to wedding dresses when clearly there is an infinitesimal chance of them getting any further wear? If we divorce and remarry, there is too much negative emotional baggage attached to the 1st dress to ever consider making use of it for a 2nd round. And as for passing the dress on, it’s hardly surprising that few women would wish to wear a dress designed for or selected by another. Taking the outfit down to a charity shop would have been tantamount to an insult to its identity and to its special significance in my life. Selling it off in a ‘nearly new’ fashion shop looked like a form of prostitution. I dearly wanted to find a cause worthy of my outfit, but nothing came along.
And then…in February of this year, an appeal from the Stop Stansted Expansion Campaign plopped into my inbox. Fundraisers were organising a Posh Frock sale on April 21st to be held in Four Ashes Takeley, Essex. Eureka! This was IT. I excitedly placed my wedding suit and matching necklace (costume jewellery) into a box and posted them off without a second’s hesitation. It felt so good: here was the ultimate marriage of two deeply personal themes: a passionate and constant concern with climate change – and a much-loved memento from the central event of my private life. For me the choice was a no-brainer. It was slightly harder to convince my family that I had done the right thing.
