“You ain’t no hothouse flower” is something my crochet teacher said her dad used to tell her. When I decided to crochet a wedding gown, I knew “Ain’t No Hothouse Flower” would be its name. One part tribute to my teacher, and the other parts blood, sweat, tears and calusses, this dress took at least 3 years to make. It’s constructed like an apron – backless – and by the time I approached “finishing” it, the yarn store stopped carrying the color. That’s how long this sucker took. The left and right sides of the bodice do not match, intentionally. The bead work across the lace just trails off, as if to say you will be adding to your wedding dress your entire life. It was intended to be creamy brown (cuz its not a nice day for a white wedding), but when the store stopped carrying my color , I ended up striping the skirt to hide the flaw. That’s it – naked backside and unfinished with lopsided boobs and mismatched colors – to me that perfectly espresses the moment of a too young girl standing before a wedding alter. Although I must add, the bride I had in mind to wear this dress is a little more seasoned than the average Utah bride. Maybe she’s just old enough to honestly express she really doesn’t know what she’s getting into. Maybe she just wanted to wear something lacey and beautiful and be queen for a day, and pretend her ass isn’t hanging out. Why did I take on wedding gown, especially considering my complicated emotions around the topic? Well, I had to because it the height of my craft. No other garment in our culture recieves the same attention and workmanship.
I’m showing this piece for the first time at the Utah Arts Alliance, 127 S Main, now until July 30.