It’s a classic line: I wanted to look (and feel) like me, but as a bride. A love of London-based designer Emilia Wickstead’s ready-to-wear brought me to her Sloane Street shop to enquire about creating something bespoke. Her style is ultra-feminine, but very clean cut. Her choice of fabrics and clever tailoring won me over.

The whole process reversed my usual role – that of designer. This time, I was on the other side of the desk. It wasn’t a case of picking and tweaking from a few samples. This was a start-from-square-one process, something I adored. I sent Emilia pictures, we talked about how I wanted to feel. I explained my preference for sleeves, and I told her that I didn’t want to have to wear funny underwear on the day. And a challenge: I wanted a full skirt, without any underskirts. I wanted freedom of movement, to zip it up and go, and for the dress to move with me. In the end, a silk zibeline cleverly fused with gauze meant the skirt – just one layer, no tulle – had the voluminous effect I loved and the freedom of movement I craved.

The London appointments were a joy. Emilia’s cotton candy-hued atelier, dotted with seating upholstered in florals to match her rails of ready-to-wear, is retro and chic and made me want to redecorate my house. Emilia was always there, along with her head seamstress, Brigitta – a supremely serene, no-nonsense lady with a neat bun and a white coat.

A full toile was made; this cotton canvas version of the dress was where the major alterations were made before the Real Thing was sewn. By way of advice, this is the importance of choosing a designer who matches your personal aesthetic and having a clear idea of your desired vision for the day – then there will be no surprises. Feedback is essential – as a designer myself I can assure you it is much more helpful to receive direction during the process rather than at the end when it’s more difficult to make changes.

My much-desired sleeves were kept all the way to the last fitting, when I had to admit that if it was in any way warm, I might keel over, so they were removed. Fortuitous, really, because the May sun beamed down on our outdoor ceremony. A dramatic train also remained nearly to the end. But I had to admit that draping the extra fabric over my arm all night would be a total bore. 

I wholeheartedly recommend keeping reality in check – your day will be all the better for it. The length of the train, in the end, was guided by the length of my mother’s wedding veil. She died eight years ago – to wear it was both special and important to me. Sharon Hoey and her star team on Merrion Street in Dublin returned it to pristine condition by steaming the creases out, replacing the comb, and removing some seriously seventies-era silk flower adornments. It was the perfect finish.