We teamed up with Katriona Flynn, lecturer in fashion at TU Dublin, to ask readers to share their story of a dress that has played an important role in their lives. We were struck by the huge response, and how the physical features of the dresses played second string to the human stories around them, and the memories embedded within. Here’s a selection …
Submit your own ‘Story of A Dress’ to [email protected] and discover more stories online throughout the series. See the details of a new Desert Island Dress Podcast, created by Katriona Flynn and Dr Dee Duffy below.
Mam’s Important Wedding Dress by Tadhg Fitzgerald
One of my most well preserved memories is my parents’ wedding day. It’s been nearly a decade since they tied the knot in Sicily and still every detail of the ceremony is fresh in my mind. The sun was beating down on the hotel courtyard, my stepdad was doing everything in his power to not sweat through his shirt, and I was rehearsing my poem. I’d never been so excited to see my Mam.
The dress was low cut with lace shoulder straps, and had a beaded floral design embroidered throughout. At the time I didn’t have any concept of fashion and knew very little about personal style. In truth she could’ve walked out in a €5 PLT dress and I would’ve still been in awe. But at my age now I understand my Mam so much more (as well as fashion) and I have such a respect for the choice she made.
When I think of my Mam and what she loves, I think of flowers and our garden. She is so educated on botany and flora, she goes to the Netherlands annually to see the tulips bloom, and she has a very exclusive gardening group chat with my Granny and uncle. The dress was modest but timeless, and also allowed an important part of her personality to shine through in its design.
When she walked out arm-in-arm with my grandad I was so proud. It was a unique feeling because in that moment, I knew my Mam was the most important person to all of these people. She was the main character. I know it was one of the happiest days of her life and the dress allowed to focus on that joy rather than focus on what she was wearing. That’s what I believe the best garments do.
The Strength of A Dress by Veronica O’Reilly
I was a Viking Warrior in the TV series. The wardrobe department provided me with the dress which I loved because it made me feel strong, purposeful, invincible. I have played other parts before – a peasant, a Lady, a nurse, a possessed woman, but this dress seems to take me to a world of its own and turn me into a Viking Warrior.
I had also been given a long sword with leather belt and scabbard. The sword was heavy and I admired the strength of these bygone women on being able to wear it and use it. I would need to do weight training to reach their standard of strength.
Wearing the dress made me feel courageous, confident and daring. I had changed from the 21st century to the 9th century and it made me feel very earthy and real.
It was made of layers and layers of woollen worsted material made into a shift type of dress with add-ons of leather. The colours were browns mixed with greens and creams and tied with a type of cloth belt. There were different textures in the dress, some very rough while nearer the skin smooth. At first impression it looked dull and uninteresting but when you wore it, you became as if it were a part of nature, blending in with its muted colours. These colours suited me as I am fair skinned and have light grey hair. It was a dress for battle and banquet. It clothed me with life and fierce strength. I was transformed.
I walked tall and stately, looking at the world with age old wisdom. I felt ageless.
I was a Viking. I was a warrior.
A LBD Type of Friendship by Margaret Young
The story of my dress is the story of female friendship. This time fourteen years ago, my best friend Niamh bought me a black, jacquard mini dress from Savida in Dunnes Stores for my 33rd birthday. Now I think you will agree, it is difficult enough to buy a friend perfume, but clothes are another matter entirely. Usually what someone classes as “so you” is the image of you in their head of the version of you from a long time ago, a you that you have evolved past or grown out of. So, a friend that can buy you the perfect dress, that you can wear out that night, is someone who knows you well.
I slipped the dress straight on and we headed to the hairdresser for matching blow dries. I accessorised my dress that night with a sequin jacket and a belt, for added glamour. We went for cocktails and cake and had a brilliant night that we still talk about. I have worn the dress many many times since, without the jacket, with or without tights, it was a classic, it was the quintessential LBD, perfect for most occasions. Whenever I was stuck, I would open my wardrobe, see it and breath a sigh of relief.
As a minimalist, and someone who regularly clears out their wardrobe, I am sad to say that the dress (along with the sequin jacket) is long gone. I replaced the jacket with a vintage find, a heavy one-of-a-kind beauty made in India – I struck lucky at a vintage fair. But a replacement dress has proved elusive. The perfect LBD (just like a good friend) is something to keep and treasure always.
Aunty Mary’s Dress by Joyce Butler
As I take my late Aunty Mary’s dress out of my wardrobe I get goosebumps, as if she’s suddenly come into the room. The dress is a royal blue satin look drop waist, a la Dynasty from the 1980s, with a pattern of mustard, navy and white flowers. Royal blue was one of Mary’s favourite colours. She bought it in Slic Chic, a popular Waterford women’s boutique. This shop held a mystique for me as a child and reminded me of the Arabian Nights, with its shiny colourful dresses in the window.
I hold the dress in my hands and admire the white lace trim Mary tacked onto the front. I look at her hand stitching, which wasn’t perfect, but that’s what makes it so endearing. The lace has faded from white to grey. Yet the silver sequins glint and catch the light, like Mary did. She was a glamorous petite brunette, with high cheek bones, and a kind heart.
I pick up the matching jacket that she also customised, with a pretty lace hankie sewn above the breast pocket. The yellowed label says hand wash with care. And I wonder if she ever did. In her small one-story house at the end of Chapel Lane, Ballybricken, Waterford. I remember the sofa in her sitting room was always covered with beautiful clothes and exotic looking material she bought from The Casket, a real Aladdin’s cave of a dressmaker’s shop, where buttons gleamed like diamonds.
Mary never had any children, but she gave my siblings, cousins and I selection boxes at Christmas each year and blessed us with holy water before we left her house. Aunty Mary lived for 30 years with her husband, Larry, in Chapel Lane, Ballybricken, in the heart of Waterford City.
When she died in 2008, I took this dress because it holds the essence of her. We all remembered how special she was. Some people just are.
The Podcast: Desert Island Dress
The podcast unearths the heartfelt stories behind the clothing we cherish the most. In this unique series, guests share the four garments they could never leave behind, each with a profound connection to their lives and loved ones. Join your hosts Katriona Flynn and Dr. Dee Duffy on a captivating journey through the wardrobe of memories, as we explore the emotional tapestry that clothing weaves into our most cherished moments.
