You may recall the tale of my mom, the anti-mother-of-the-bride turned rabid cake stand collector.
By the end of the search, the wedding day seemed to be besides the point. But we still had a party to throw, so out came all the glass.
At the day after brunch, we gave some cake stands away to the most special women in my life (though, admittedly, we did not give them the most special cake stands.)
We lost a few to a tragic rolling cart accident while loading up the car.
One of the tiniest cake stands – the one that sat on the sweetheart table where Dave and I had our first meal as husband and wife – is now in our tiniest of New York City kitchens. Its pattern is called “Good Luck” and it was typically given to newlyweds in an effort to send them off into their life together with just that.
In recent weeks, Mom’s managed to carve out a few more from the collection; they’re currently sitting on the dining room buffet, labeled and catalogued, waiting to be distributed to more ladies we love.
But of course, at least 15 remain in her kitchen cabinets, displacing china and stemware that I don’t foresee ever regaining their spot in the limelight. We are, very firmly, cake stand people now.