This week felt strangely reflective.

A small sewing project has been sitting beside me for days, a simple white t-shirt made from jersey fabric. Somehow the material has been intimidating me. Jersey is soft and forgiving, yet it also requires a certain confidence in the way it moves and stretches. So the project is waiting until I feel ready.

Creative projects can be like that. They wait patiently for the right moment.

Meanwhile, like many people lately, I found myself watching the new Love Story series everyone seems to be talking about. But what surprised me wasn’t really the show itself. It was the memories it stirred.

Suddenly I was thinking again about John F.Kennedy Jr and Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy.

There was something about their wedding that stayed with me long after that summer. It wasn’t just the romance of it. In the summer of 1996, as a child, my parents, my sister and I went on a road trip from Montreal to Quebec City. On our way there, we stopped by multiple little chapels while my dad searched for traces of my mother’s ancestors. During those visits, I became completely enchanted by those sacred spaces, the quiet light, the sense of deep Quebec history, the intimacy of the chapels themselves.

Seeing the marriage of John F.Kennedy Jr and Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy unfold in a similarly simple, almost sacred setting felt like a strange alignment of dreams. As if something I had already felt while standing in those small chapels had suddenly been reflected back into the world.

It made an impression on me.

What struck me then, and still does now, was the quiet confidence of it all. There was no spectacle, no theatrical excess. Carolyn now-iconic slip dress, designed by Narciso Rodriguez, felt almost radical in its simplicity. What I remember most clearly is my immediate reaction to that dress. I fell in love with it almost instantly. At first glance it felt incredibly simple, almost risky for a wedding dress at that time. In the 1990s, the norm was still dramatic bridal gowns, voluminous skirts, layers of lace, and an almost theatrical romanticism that had defined wedding fashion for years.

But Carolyn chose something completely different.

Her silk slip dress was understated, clean, and quietly elegant. It didn’t try to compete for attention; it simply existed with confidence. And somehow that simplicity made it feel even more powerful.

I remember being genuinely stunned by it.

In that moment, something clicked in my mind. I realized that one day, if I ever got married, I wanted a dress just like that, something timeless, something effortless, something that didn’t follow the expectations of the moment but instead felt true to itself.

Looking back now, I realize how certain cultural moments shapes our imagination. A wedding glimpsed in the news, a summer spent wandering through old chapels, a dress that challenged the norms of its time. Years later, those impressions still linger, not as celebrity gossip, but as small guiding images of what elegance, intimacy and beauty might look like.

And sometimes it only takes a passing television series, on a quiet Saturday night, or a memory resurfacing unexpectedly to remind us how those moments once changed the way we see the world.

Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy’s wedding dress remains one of the most influential examples of minimalist bridal fashion in modern history.