Irish Pride

By: pixbyshumbles

Feb 27 2012

Category: February 2012

2 Comments

No, not the bread …

I post a lot about family on this blog. One person I haven’t talked about much is my godfather and uncle.

This is probably because I don’t see him often and am secretly a little in awe and intimidated by him.

And rightly so, as you will see.

He started out in life making costumes at The Gate and Abbey theatres in Dublin. I remember he’d come home to my grandparents’ house on Sundays for dinner wearing the most fantastically well-made pieces, you couldn’t call them clothes, they were too good! For a time he had a shop in the north inner city. I can’t imagine it did too well because I reckon he just got carried away matching people with costume pieces, forgetting to charge them! That’s based on my own experience when I came out with armloads of pieces, one was a massive billowey-sleeved shirt that I would wear with leggings, Docs and a scowl. Hey, it was the 80s!

He went off to seek his fortune in London and, later, a little further afield where dreams are made, Hollywood.

A more unassuming man you couldn’t meet. His talent is tangible, intricate. He is a perfectionist but at the same time, modest.

What he can’t do with a piece of fabric just isn’t worth doing. He can make the most of a woman’s figure by creating little folds so the fabric falls just so, like liquid.

He has made many pieces for me over the years, my christening gown, my Debs dress and, lately, little lace-trimmed aprons (the photo is of the most recent one)! I think he’s trying to get me to tap into my inner Nigella!

He had hoped to make my wedding frock but the timing wasn’t right. Unfortunately he couldn’t get home for our shindig last summer, but no matter, I know he wanted to be there and I know he was thinking of us.

Last night his talent was recognised by his peers.

In Hollywood.

At the Oscars!

He was part of the team who won a gold statuette for Best Costume in The Artist.

So, as I sit here in the wilds of Sligo in my glamourous get-up of leggings, fleece and kneehigh wool socks (it’s all the rage here!) I picture Nigel in sunny California, surrounded by fabric and flapping his hands with the excitement of it all.

I can’t help but be swelled with pride for him.

And I know my grandparents would be too if they were here.

So, well done Nigel, you sooooo deserve it!

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2 comments on “Irish Pride”

  1. You have every right to be proud,it’s a marvelous achievement, my own mother was an amazing dressmaker so I know where you are coming from.
    Well done Nigel.


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