I SEE RED

Anthony Radford | Bendigo Weekly | 05-Aug-2011 4.52

«
Silk gauze dress, 1938. Worn by Monica Maurice for her marriage to Dr Arthur Newton Jackson at the Chapel of Our Lady in Rotheram, Yorkshire. Given by the family of Monica Maurice. ©Victoria and Albert Museum / V&A Images
»
THERE I was, crammed into Bendigo Art Gallery last Saturday with about a zillion others, at the Grand Opening of the sure-to-be-biggest-thing-since-sliced-bread White Wedding Dress Exhibition.
And there we were, listening to speeches about the artistic, fashion and historical significance of the white wedding dress from a myriad of dignitaries, fashionistas and art folk.  
And there I was, watching everyone smiling in agreement about just how important that one white dress is to a girl, on that one day in her life…
Gulp.
White wedding dresses traumatise me.
The thought of fluffy white tulle fills me with dread.
Earlier this year I got married – but managed to avoid ‘all that’ – choosing an off-the-rack black and red number, that more mirrored one of the ‘bordello ladies’ in From Here to Eternity, than anything remotely on display in those glass cases.
While loving every minute of our nuptials and wedding festival – and it was! – I oh-so resented the amount of pressure that bubbled up from the bowels of the earth every time the words ‘wedding dress’ were uttered within earshot.
For an ex-tomboy who never thought she’d get married, it was a bit much.
Don’t get me wrong. I love a wedding, but being a bride – whoa Nelly!
Amid my panic and rising sense of disconnection, I wandered around this exquisitely-mounted exhibit (and it is – it goes on for miles too), staring somewhat blankly at the couture, and reading (with interest) the info plaques that went with it.
Then… There she was. My get-out-of-jail-free card: the RED WEDDING DRESS.
Finally I’d stumbled upon a like-minded soul whose wedding dress also represented passion, colour, a free spirit and a wee bit of subversion.
Plus she could wear the thing again after it was ‘all over red rover’!
And what a rebel this lady was.
I stared with relief at a “ruby-coloured silk-gauze mid-calf dress” worn by one Monica Maurice who married in South Yorkshire, England in 1938.
According to the catalogue notes, Ms Maurice was “an independent, unconventional woman” with a “passion for racing cars and flying”, and “until 1978” was the only “woman member of the Association of Mining Electrical Engineers”.
My kinda lady!
It turned out I wasn’t the only person in the room panicking - the conversations I heard around this exhibition were priceless.
Everyone has a wedding story – in the end the the genius of the show is its universality.
The best I heard was from a woman who was becoming traumatised by Bendigo’s op shops.
So far she’d seen the exact same dress she’d worn to her own ceremony, ‘remaindered’ in not one but three.
She didn’t know whether to feel flattered or battered.
The real triumph though is how our community is embracing the exhibition.  
The Meadow Boutique opposite the Bendigo Art Gallery is displaying a stellar white dress covered in cheeky texta grafitti.
But Bob’s Boutique takes the (wedding) cake so far.
Looming large over the northern end of Williamson Street, owner Sonia Brit has mounted a giant plush bunny head atop the hand-stitched quilted dress she wore to her own wedding.
It’s front and centre in her window, a scene from Donnie Darko if ever there was one.
So Bendigo, the gauntlet has been thrown down.
I’m looking forward to seeing how you interpret the White Wedding Dress on the streets. Hopefully there’ll be plenty of red…
b.Entertained

Comment





Captcha Image