He came home in the wee small hours to find me labouring over my sewing machine to finish a dress for the ball.

It was pure silk, orange with large batik designs on it. “You can’t wear that to the ball,” he said, already mortified that we were to be there at all.

Since his main objection seemed to be the fabric, I started again with a lovely blue, red and purple stripe, and got it finished in time to sally forth to the Victoria Halls. There I was greeted by said Attendant with the words, “Your neckline’s squint.” He was right.

The orange dress wasn’t wasted. I took it to Morocco when I went camel trekking, and at a banquet at the end of the knight’s concurrent car rally, I rode a little Arab horse while wearing it.

I used to make a lot of my own clothes, both when I was a student and when the knight was still the Boy David.

I made my own outfit for my daughter’s wedding, and my daughter-in-law’s wedding dress, but over the last years my sewing machine has been used more to make costumes for theatre productions, Scott’s Selkirk, and grandchildren. Last week, however, my daughter-in- law asked if I’d make her a tweed skirt and I offered also to make a dress for Hannah for the Wedding of the Year. We had a lovely time in Melrose choosing patterns and I also chose a pattern for myself. I had already identified some silk from my store – what it is to have Indian friends and relations!

Then I popped into Lochcarron to find matching material for a wrap to go over the finished outfit and could hardly believe my luck in finding something quite perfect.

I went home and sent a rapturous email to the daughter-in-law elect. Unfortunately, she must have told the bridegroom because the next thing I knew, he was on the phone protesting at the thought of me turning up at his wedding in a home-made dress.

“I made my dress for Catriona’s wedding,” I protested, remembering sewing on the buttons just before sallying off to the church. I got a very dismissive reply. The upshot is that I am to receive a visit from the bridegroom, who will approve pattern, fabric, and probably buttons into the bargain. What happens if he doesn’t approve of them, I don’t know.

Then there’s the question of The Hat. There will be no question of me outshining my samdhin (Hindi word for co-mother in law) – I’ve already seen her totally gorgeous hat and dress. And she’s slim.

But since it’s a November wedding, I fancy a fur hat. “Could I wear the one I wore to go away from my own wedding?” I suggested, since I’ve kept it all these years (57 of them).

I last wore it at our ruby wedding, and have left instructions I’m to wear it in my coffin.

But no, I was only joking about wearing it to the Wedding of the Year.