I tried on my wedding dress from 20 years ago – this is what I’d do differently now

When I originally suggested to my editor that I could dust off my wedding dress and try it on for the first time since my big day, the Beckhams hadn’t done a photo shoot in their own wedding day outfits, twenty-five years after their own nuptials. Neither had Fearne Cotton and Jesse Wood, who followed suit a few days later for their tenth anniversary last week.

So I like to think that it was actually me who started this trend of being photographed in old wedding dresses. Though, my husband, Mark, had no interest in trying on his suit and having his picture taken with me to celebrate it being twenty years this September since we got married. So instead, you’ve got me and Grenson the dog.

The reason I dug out my dress? I wanted to work out how I would do it differently if I was planning my wedding now, all these years later. I didn’t work in fashion back then, and although I didn’t work in sustainability either (which I do now), I did have a mind on trying not to be wasteful, albeit with an eye on not wasting money rather than wasting stuff. 

We didn’t have a cake (who eats the cake?) and opted for bite-sized baklava instead. We used an amazing new thing called an iPod instead of having a DJ. There was no band, because I played in one as did Mark, and so did my dad, so between us, we made a brand new family one. My two bridesmaids wore oyster-coloured strappy bias-cut dresses that they could wear again, should they wish to. But there was one area where I did want to spend a bit more money: my own dress.

Here’s the thing about wedding dresses that I didn’t think about at the time. They are usually a single-use garment (every year in the UK we spend £2.7 billion on 50 million of them). And even though I spent a lot of time considering how I would feel looking at my pictures in twenty years, I gave little thought to what would happen to my traditional-style dress after the big day. 

I designed it with a local maker. One detail – a contrasting pink lining that was revealed on the underside of my train by attaching a fabric loop around my wrist – meant it could technically be worn inside out. I loved this idea and at the time I had every intention of doing so after the wedding, imagining the balls and banquets we might suddenly be invited to as a newly married couple. That’s what married couples do, right?

Of course, my wedding dress would actually stay packed away in the loft, never to be worn again. I didn’t bother to dry clean it, so it still has the memory of our dirty dancefloor on the hem. 

With the benefit of hindsight, had I gone for a dress design that was a bit more “me” than “classic bride”, perhaps with straps or sleeves and a more manageable hem length, I might well have worn it pink-side-out to a friend’s wedding in the years that followed. Maybe it would pass muster styled with trainers and a denim jacket (the jury’s out on that one). Had my musical career taken off, I might have even worn it ivory-side-out on stage at Glastonbury (see PJ Harvey’s recent performance for details). Sadly though, I haven’t played bass guitar for a decade and I’m still waiting for that banquet invitation.

Our anniversary got me thinking, though: if we were to get married again, this year, what would I do differently? For the most part, I wouldn’t change a thing (it was a GREAT wedding), but I would definitely approach my dress with a more sustainable hat on (I probably wouldn’t wear an actual hat, mind you). 

Make-to-order with a mind to pass it on

I don’t want to discourage people from creating the dress of their dreams, especially if it means using the skills of a local dressmaker who can create something unique just for you. I loved the experience and I don’t think it’s any coincidence that shortly afterwards I embarked on a career in fashion.

But these are the dresses that are hardest to know what to do with afterwards. At one point I was planning to frame my dress and hang it on the wall, and I also thought I might pass it on to my future daughter, but we ended up being lazy with wall hangings and unable to have children, so languishing in the attic was its unfortunate destiny. 

Having got it out for this shoot, I think it’s time for me to sell or donate it so that someone else can make use of it. Although it was a bespoke fit, it is fastened with lacing rather than buttons or a zip, which means it could technically fit a range of bodies (my body is definitely not the same body as twenty years ago). If you’re planning to rehome your wedding dress, it’s worth considering details like this that will make it wearable for more people than just you.

Buy second hand

We all know that the second-hand clothing market is thriving, and wedding dresses are no exception. From charity options championing the idea – Oxfam and Barnardos have a brilliant selection – to designer stockists like The Loop and Retold Vintage, there are a plethora of options out there. Vestiaire Collective, for example, currently has a silk ruffled Dior number for less than five hundred quid that would do the job very nicely indeed. 

Here’s where your local tailor comes into their own again, because you may well want to adjust the fit to perfection once you have your second-hand beauty in your hands or repair any damage it might have picked up on its last big day. You could also try one of the increasingly popular tailoring apps: Sojo will collect from your door if you live in London (you can post from elsewhere), while The Seam will hook you up with a local studio that you can visit in person.

Rent it

Renting suits for weddings is nothing new, and renting a wedding dress is a great idea that I would definitely consider if I were getting married now. It would give me the option of being super glamorous for the day, even though I’m usually more into casual vibes. It would also mean that I could afford to think about something I would never be able to consider if I was buying new.

Browsing on By Rotation, for example, I really like the look of a Rixo Bridal dress that’s just £20 per day and an off-the-shoulder number from Sleeper that’s £25 per day; at those prices, you could rent a few options to try on, or to change into one for the evening reception (and increase the bar tab to boot).

Something I could wear again

I’ve left what I think is the most likely option to last: investing in a casual bridal outfit that’s versatile enough to wear again. A top and a skirt in a more laid-back fabric like white linen, for example, would be ideal. Take this top and skirt from Roake Studio, which would look lovely for nuptials and equally as nice styles with jeans/a T-shirt afterwards. 

‘Saffron’ skirt, £125 and ‘Millie’ top, £75, Roake studio 

This independent brand makes to order, so you have the flexibility to add or take away hem lengths to suit you. In fact, white linen is an option for all of its designs, so if a jumpsuit, dress, or trousers and a top is more your thing, that’s doable, too. 

Plus, this kind of outfit is far more likely to go with a pair of shoes I already own – these have been a favourite for the last decade and have seen me through many weddings as a guest. Unlike my actual wedding shoes, a truly awful pair of £30 strappy high street kitten heels, which I took off as soon as we’d done the pictures, leaving the reception barefoot…