Alexis always smiled to herself when she arrived at the boutique and saw the name: Madame Valance: Atelier. It made the designer sound like a middle-aged doyenne, when in fact she was a young woman of about thirty.
Walking into the boutique, Alexis smiled at the receptionist sitting at the mahogany desk. “Good morning, Lettice, I’m meeting Miss Trevalian.”
“Good morning, Miss Malvern. Miss Trevalian hasn’t arrived yet. Please take a seat.”
“Thank you.” Alexis sat down in one of the chairs and continued to think about Jacqueline Valance and her clothes. They were always beautifully handmade, as haute couture had to be, but also creative and youthful. Although she wasn’t trying to compete with Charles Frederick Worth, the great designer of this era, whose creations were favored by society women, she was becoming more and more popular.
The French designer was making Claudia’s wedding gown, and today was the last fitting. Claudia had asked Alexis to be present, wanting her opinion. After the fitting, Alexis was going to be measured for her own wedding gown, which she had strong opinions about, knew what she wanted.
The small bell tinkled as the door opened and Claudia came rushing in, looking slightly flushed. “Sorry I’m late,” she exclaimed, and went to kiss Alexis. She then crossed to the desk. “My apologies to Madame Valance, Lettice. Will you please let her know I am now here?”
“I will indeed, Miss Trevalian,” Lettice said, standing up, retreating into a back room. A moment later, she returned. “Madame wishes you to go upstairs to the main salon, please.”
“Thank you,” Claudia said, and she and Alexis climbed the wide staircase together. “I don’t know why, but there was such a lot of traffic today. The streets are clogged.”
“I know. But then it’s Monday, and that’s always a busy day. People coming back from their country homes, deliveries to shops after the weekend.” Alexis reached out and squeezed her hand. “Do relax. Don’t be anxious. I’m sure the gown is beautiful.”
The two women sat down together on a low seat in the salon where the clothes were fitted. It was a medium-sized room, the walls painted a soft dove gray, and the doors and other woodwork as well. There was a huge crystal chandelier dropping from the ceiling and wall sconces which filled the salon with a bright glow. Madame Valance had invested in electric light, wanting the best possible conditions for her clothes to be viewed. There were four cheval mirrors for the clients to see themselves wearing the latest garments.
Within a few seconds, Madame Valance arrived, dressed in her usual long black skirt and matching blouse, with a white cotton coat on top.
Alexis called it the doctor’s coat, because that was what it resembled. In fact, it was worn to protect the delicate fabrics and the light colors which the designer was using for her creations. Most haute couture designers wore them out of necessity, not wishing new pieces to touch their own clothing.
After Jacqueline Valance had greeted them in her cheerful manner, she said, “If you will come with me, Miss Trevalian, Jeanette and I will help you into your gown.”
“Of course.” Claudia rose and followed the designer into the adjoining dressing room.
Alexis glanced around, noting, yet again, how plain and simple this salon was. Not a painting in sight, no bric-a-brac, and no vases of flowers. She understood why. Madame wanted a neutral setting for her designs to be the only thing on view.
Ten minutes later, Claudia returned to the salon, holding up the sides of her wedding gown. Alexis caught her breath, and exclaimed, “Oh, Claudia, you look beautiful and the gown is … divine.”
Claudia beamed at her, walked into the middle of the room, where she was helped up onto the large square platform by Jeanette, who began to arrange the skirt of the gown.
When Queen Victoria married Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha in February of 1840, she had worn a white satin gown with a flounce of Honiton lace. In wearing white, she had started a tradition without knowing it. Forever after, brides would always be married in a white gown.
White silk had been Claudia’s choice of fabric. Panels of white lace were inserted down the front and the back of the skirt. At the back the panel grew wider as it reached the hem, became a long lace train, eight feet long, stretching out behind the dress. The bodice was made of the white silk, as were the long sleeves, and the trim on the bateau neckline, as Madame called it, was of white lace.
“Please, Miss Trevalian, will you turn slowly so that I can make sure the hem is correct, completely even.”
After doing this twice, with Jeanette helping to move the train carefully, Madame Valance announced, “Et voilà! It is finished! I have nothing more to do except try on your veil.” Reaching out, the designer took hold of Claudia’s hand, Jeanette the other. They helped her to step off the platform.
Jeanette went to retrieve the veil and Madame led Claudia to one of the cheval mirrors. The veil was short. It fell down over the front of her face to meet the bateau neckline, and at the back it stopped at the waist so that it did not hide the lace panel on the back of the skirt, which turned into the long train at the hem.
“I made this band of roses to hold the veil in place, for the moment,” the designer explained. “I know on the day of your marriage, you will be wearing one of the Trevalian diamond tiaras.”
“It is rather a simple one, actually,” Claudia said. “It belonged to my grandmother, and I know it will be perfect with the gown.” Smiling, she added with genuine sincerity, “Thank you so much, Madame Valance. You have outdone yourself, created something truly beautiful for my wedding day.”
“My pleasure, Miss Trevalian. Now, Miss Malvern, let us sit down and talk about the gown you would like for your wedding day. It is in September, is it not?”
Alexis nodded, her face full of smiles. “That is correct, and I want a gown of cream satin, but very plain and tailored, sleek perhaps is the best word. And no lace trim, only a lace veil, as long as you want.”
“Cream? Not white? That has become the tradition.”
“I know. But cream suits me better because of my white complexion. People won’t notice, not really. They’ll think it’s white.”
“Ah yes. Perhaps you are right. What style do you want? Narrow, full, in between?”
Madame rose, went to get a sketchbook, and the two of them then sat talking whilst Claudia changed her clothes.
Madame made several rough sketches quickly, showed them to Alexis. They had their heads together, bent over the sketchpad, until Claudia joined them.
After a little more discussion about Alexis’s wedding gown, and measurements were taken, the two young women finally took their leave and went downstairs.
As they went out onto Curzon Street, animatedly chatting to each other, a tall young man, obviously in a hurry, bumped into them, almost knocking Claudia down to the ground. He caught hold of her arm just in time and firmly held her up, apologizing most profusely.
He was so nice about it, saying he had been clumsy and apologizing again, neither of them were angry. With a small, gracious bow he took his leave and hurried away.
Once he had gone, Alexis looked at Claudia and asked, “Are you all right? He really did bump into you rather hard in his haste. He was correct; he was awfully clumsy.”
“I’m fine, truly, Alexis. I must say he was nice about it and rather tall and handsome, don’t you think?”
Alexis couldn’t help laughing. “I suppose he was, actually. And polite, lovely manners. Now, shall we go for something to eat?”
“That would be lovely, let’s do that. Oh, but what about your work? Don’t you have to go back to the office?”
“I went there at seven o’clock this morning and accomplished quite a lot,” Alexis said.
“You’re just like Papa! You two early risers are made for each other.”
“And in every way,” Alexis answered.