Recently, Insatiable Critic’s food blogger and former restaurant critic of New York Magazine, Gael Greene, called upon our very own Blanche of Off Broadway Boutique to have her gorgeous wedding dress consigned in our fabulous re-runs vintage designer department.  With her fine eye for exquisite vintage clothes for over 50 women, Blanche expertly assessed her timeless dress and decided that it’d be right at home among the stunning fashions that we carry in our in our clothing store for women over 50.  And though she was a bit heartbroken that she’d given her wedding dress away, Ms. Greene also recognized that she had left it in good hands enough to write a glowing review of Blanche’s designer consignment services:

 The Wedding Dress. Blue Skies. Casa Nonna. Eating Around. Torture at Salinas. Remembering George.       

 

Gael Greene in her lovely dress on her wedding day

Dear Friends and Family,   
    Loving friends tell me I will feel like a new person, buoyant and energized, if I wade into my closets and throw away everything I haven’t worn in 20 years. How about 30? It’s on my “must do” list. It’s been on the list since the walls started crumbling in my walk-in closet and the landlord told me to get ready for the painter. That was three years ago. Now the whole living room and what used to be our bedroom on the balcony are closets too.

  Last week I told Steven if he would weed out everything he doesn’t wear any more in his closet, I would remove everything of mine that has been encroaching on his space.

    I pulled out my wedding dress, carefully wrapped in navy blue tissue to keep it from yellowing. It wasn’t actually a bridal gown. It was a summer formal, sleeveless, floor length, empire waist, in white eyelet cotton. It was very heavy. I carried it to Blanche at her resale shop in the rear of “Off-Broadway” on West 72nd Street.

    “It’s Donald Brooks for Townley,” I said. “Originally Clare McCardell designed for Townley, but when she died, Donald Brooks took over before starting his own label and designing for Jackie.”

    “It’s small,” said Blanche, looking at me. “It would be a size 2 today.”

    “I was very thin for about a month,” I said.

    “Designer vintage. I can sell this,” Blanche mused, stroking the cotton. “They don’t make fabric  like this anymore,” she said.

    I thought about snatching it away. But I didn’t. The groom and I flew to Detroit to get married in my sister’s Bloomfield Hills backyard. I’d asked the florist for a Gothic arch. I stomped and had a fit (brief, not to ruin my eyes) when I saw four poles like giant Pall Mall cigarettes stuck in the ground. “I should have known no one in Detroit would be able to do a Gothic arch,” I wept.

    I still can’t believe I actually gave away the wedding dress that’s been hanging in that closet for 50 years. I gave up my adorable, wildly beloved husband 37 years ago because it seemed the right moment to move on. There is nothing like your first love. He often said that. I never asked him if he meant me.