Gigi was a tiny woman: when I was 14 I could wear her wedding dress from 1906. In the pictures from her wedding, it’s covered in ruched netting and bows. Gigi wore a large hat, and it’s impossible to tell whether she was scowling or her smile in the sun just looked like a scowl.

Aunt Lee had taken all the trimming off for her own wedding (she was similarly tiny) – a double wedding with Aunt Betty. It was a long, flared shot of champagne silk-satin, with a ruffled silk underskirt and  a lace collar.

At 14, I was gawky and horrified by myself, but wearing that and standing on the riser in Mimi’s sewing room, I felt beautiful. Mom took a picture, and in the worst moments of adolescence, sometimes I would sneak that picture out and stare at it, hoping that it meant there was some chance that I might turn out pretty, turn out graceful and composed.

(I turned out pretty well. Tai chi helped for the grace part.)

When I married the Bedbug, of course I wanted to wear that dress. But the intervening almost-decade had not been kind to it. Mimi said that when she tried to left it from the box, the satin crumbled in her hands. I was so devastated. But I can’t imagine that it would have fit me, so maybe it’s just as well.

The underskirt survives. My mom had it cleaned and preserved. Maybe one of us will find a use for it some day.

I still love that photo.