“I don’t want to be a Queen, I want to be THE Queen.”

Does anyone remember when Game of Thrones was still in series one, and no one was quite sure what to make of it? When fans of the books were finally given the gratification of seeing each brick-sized story turned into an epic fantasy television show? When fresh faced unknown actors caught their big breaks and Sean Bean met another untimely– but not too shocking– end at the headsman’s axe? When ‘Winter is coming‘ were the words on everyone’s lips?

Yeah, me neither.

Truthfully, I didn’t start watching Game of Thrones until the Red Wedding caused such a stir on Facebook and Youtube that I had to see what all the fuss was about. Then, I watched just enough to fall in love with Natalie Dormer but ultimately couldn’t wait for season 5 to be made available in the UK.

Now we’re in season 7, and I think winter has finally reached Westeros, and I’m fairly certain that Margaery is dead– but in the North-West of Kent, it’s the middle of summer and I’m digging through old boxes to find the one cosplay that I never finished so that she might come alive once again.


It was a poison called ‘the Strangler’ that caused Prince Joffrey to meet his untimely demise, but it was Margaery Tyrell’s wedding dress that managed to strangle the life out of 17-year-old Phoebe, one stitch at a time.

But I’ve had a year to recover, and though no one knows who first said “absence makes the heart grow fonder”, it was as relevant in 1602 as it is right now.  Here I am– almost very nearly 19, and I’m gonna rebuild this dress.

CX019V-WAAAdIknArmed with a seam ripper, I’ve already taken off all of the beads (the thorns) and the silver vines. I’ve unattached the train and started to make more roses (which I think makes the total to somewhere around 350 now). I took apart the dress as you see it here, and will use the pieces as a new pattern to cut out a better, more drape-y fabric (that’s a technical term right there). I’m going to wash the wig and restyle it.


I can remember, vividly, how much stress this dress caused me, and I have in fact drawn blood from hand sewing roses onto the train– but I also can’t deny that this gown has been calling to me, haunting my sleep and reminding me that I’ve got something unfinished– and like an arch-lich god of secrets, I do hate unfinished business.



So, well, watch this space?

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