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Friday, April 29, 2011

"It Was White."

"White," I wrote. "The dress was white."

I have changed in 35 years.

I was loving all those hats. The wedding guests' hats. Victoria Beckham. Princess Mathilde of Belgium. Tara Parker Tomlinson (socialite and TV presenter). Her brilliant blue was a knock out. Carole Middleton. Even the Queen in lemon lemon lemon yellow. Zara Phillips. Princess Letizia of Spain. Lady Frederick Windsor. Sophie, Countess of Windsor. I was all over those hats. In fact, I have a fun little "fascinator" myself. I planned to wear it while sitting up here in bed watching the wedding in my pajamas, but really, it felt ridiculous. The cowboy hat seemed a better choice. Or the NYU Mom cap. Or bed head.

Some things have changed. I now officially enjoy fashion. Not always so.

When the wedding program was provided to the public yesterday, my fascination was with the music. Rhosymedre. Bach. Vaughn Williams. Love Divine, All Loves Excelling. Ubi Caritas. I was excited. The thing was, we didn't get to hear most of it. I would have traded a half hour of chats with the crowd in the park for the chance to hear the prelude. All of it. Oh well.

It feels good to know that I've grown, expanded my senses, my sights. I like music and hats!

When I was married 35 years ago next month, the town my parents still lived in, where I had grown up, printed elaborate wedding stories in the local newspaper. They had a form I was to fill out, describing the details. There were several lines for a description of the wedding dress, the attendants' dresses (God-awful would have covered it), my mother's dress (yellow), and other details of the cake and reception.

I didn't care about any of that. Requested to describe my own wedding dress, I wrote, "White." That's it. "White." It was a beautiful dress. Lace empire style with cap sleeves, a flowing skirt with a short train. Lovely. I wrote, "white."

What I did write about in detail, however, was the music. Every piece of the prelude, the anthems, the congregational hymns, the postlude. That's what I cared about. It was the substance, not the style that mattered.

Well enough. But what I have come to understand over these years is that both -- or all -- have their place. And that style can represent substance. And vice versa. All the senses. I would wear a brilliant blue hat. And describe it gladly. And I'd tell about my dress. And every piece of music. And the liturgy (as in, no "Man and wife!). It all matters.

We are created to delight in all of it! Every bit of it! It feels so good to know that now.

I especially loved the trees! The trees were green. "Leafing greenly spirits of trees."


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