Despite being bookended by entire days filled with heavy thunderstorms, the evening arrived with enough heat to warm the ladies in their sleeveless frocks and enough air to cool the suited gentlemen. The wedding began just as the soft rays of golden hour covered us in warm hues.

The subtle scent of roses, hydrangeas, peonies, and eucalyptus mixed with the mellow melody of the violin playing in the background. By the time Canon in D announced the debut of the bride, we all sat captivated. I observed as my young daughter’s eyes feasted on every detail.

One of my closest friends and ex-college roommate texted me this question one Tuesday evening. I had just written a post about my father’s suede jacket and had referred to it as a wearable heirloom, or a “wear-loom” as my clever husband called it.

“Yes! Yes, it would,” I typed back as I tried to remember the exact origin of the shirt.

Our small college often hosted events where costumes could be worn so I knew it had to have something to do with that, but rather than rack my own brain I decided to reconnect with Bethany last week. Here’s what transpired: