Oh, how the Roses Cro(chet)...

Somewhere, in the distant past, I had a wedding brainwave. I decided that I did not want traditional wedding flowers of any kind. I felt that, for us and the thrifted wedding we had planned, they were a terrible waste of money. I didn't like the idea of them being in the photo's forever, but rotting on a compost heap somewhere. I debated the idea of having them freeze-dried, but figured I would always be worrying about breaking them and then they would be gone forever on account of my cackness.

So I decided against them. They were not to be real bloom. Not for myself, the bridesmaids (my Aunt and the Marvellous M), or the wedding party button holes. Or all 85 guests button holes. Oh no. I was going to save us money.

This was the driving force.

I spent a time staring longingly at immense Pintrest boards, stuffed full of knitted bouquets and and their ilk. Oh, they were so pretty and unique. I looked into having something made, but it stretched way outside my smidge of a budget. I even tried to learn how to knit for the occasion (hey, Rebecka, it's over a year on and I am still just.not.getting.it!!! ~ but thank you so much for your patience on that cold January afternoon).

I thought about giving up.

And then I remembered how much, slightly , it only has one stick marginally better at crochet I was when I had given it a bash. I had mastered making a chain (I have some very nice red "tinsel" to prove it and my friend Lisa to thank for bringing this craft into my life) and I would jolly well learn how to do the rest. By crook or by hook.

Now then, I learn a lot faster by watching than by reading, so I knew a kindly video'd tutorial would be in order. Little did I know I would find a whole Crochet School just sitting there waiting for me. I decided to find a rose pattern that I liked and learn how to do all the stitches that it mentioned. It was a long slog - and some of my first ones were floral abominations in woolen form. But, slowly, I got it and one day it clicked. I was ready to move on to the wedding wool.

I had decided on pink, white and green flowers for the bouquets, pink for the wedding party and yellow roses for all the guests. With the Pagan/Edwardian/Vintageness of the whole thing, I wanted everything to have meaning. We chose yellow on account of their symbolism of Friendship, New Beginnings, Joy and Happiness. Over 200 roses, a 6 month stint of making them at every possible moment (for reals - on the bus, in my lunch brake, on the train) they were all ready and bagged. I drew the line at making the leaves, mostly because I found them cheaper than the wool online and The Beard is a dab hand with a needle and thread.

They truly were a team effort.

After many a panic of "do they even look like roses?...do you think they look like roses?... look at this.. what does it look like to you? Does it look like...a...rose??..." they were bundled into an old suitcase and given to guests on the day.

They formed part of the wedding favours and it warmed my soul to look out across the congregation to a sea of smiles and yellow dots. It was well worth every moment of effort and guests still make mention of them now. Every guest kept them, and the ones that were over-made shall be added to a wedding blanket I am working on.

Which is lucky, as I can no longer remember how to make them.