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A Wedding on a Shoestring

In June 1945 I was twenty years old and my sister was twenty-two years old. She had been engaged for a few months and suddenly decided to be married in six weeks time at our local church. Her Fiancé had been appointed to a teaching position in the north of England and was starting in September.

So now mother had more than enough to think about. Although the war was coming to an end there was a shortage of many things and we were still using coupons. Mothers arranged everything in those days so she watched the adverts in the local evening paper for a second hand gold dress for me as I was the bridesmaid. Very luckily, she found one and off to town we went on the bus. It fit me perfectly. It was gold taffeta with a watermark and she paid £3-10-od for it. Most young people handed over their wage packet to mother every Friday and received pocket money until they were twenty-one years old, so I couldn’t have paid for it myself.

The next item was my sister’s wedding dress. We have never discovered how it came about but mother managed to borrow one off a girl in the A.T.S. who we didn’t know. She was stationed at a stately home about eight miles away, which had been taken over by the Government. It was white lace and a good fit. It was delivered to our bungalow two days before the event and collected soon afterwards. She wore her new ‘home made’ nightie as an under-slip with a long veil and headdress. The bridegroom and Best Man wore their best Sunday suit. My father did the same, with his stiffed winged collar and black bow tie. Mother wore her Sunday best dress and hat. The reception was held in the Church Mission Hall behind the school. Mother catered herself for two dozen people and two Church friends did the serving and the washing up.
Just two days before the event she heard that a man in the next village had some film, so she found time to take the bus over there to see him. He was able to come and he took two photographs of all the visitors, including the vicar.

The service had just started when she turned to my cousin who was sat next to her and said ‘gosh! I’ve left the sausages in the oven!’ So my cousin dashed back and took them out. Good job we didn’t live far from Church. Mother made the two tier cake and a friend who was a confectioner iced it for her.

My sister kept the top tier in a tin until Christmas when they came down to visit us, but when she took the lid off it nearly walked out on its own. The marzipan had been made with soya flour.

Desparate to Help

In 1940 our mother kept saying that she would get herself a job and help with the war effort. Father, my sister and I definitely pooh-poohed the idea. Anyway, one evening she announced that she’d got herself a job at a factory in town. We three were horrified and made such a commotion that she changed her mind. I expect that my sister and I thought it was a bit degrading and I’m sure that my father felt he wasn’t going to allow his family to go backward. His mother-in-law at the turn of the century had had to take the ‘washing in’ because they were poverty stricken.

So mother became a worker at the Volunteer Rest Centre organised by the W.V.S. (Women’s Voluntary Service) in our local junior school. She collected blankets and clothes for emergencies and became a blood donor.

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