The way I see it, Blue Willow is a citadel of classic Southern china. Around for the last two hundred years or so, it seems that down in Dixie most good, Southern girls have at least a piece or two in their collection. I mean, the very same, pure white clay used to make the china is one of Georgia's largest natural resources!
Mother, a Blue Willow lover herself, started collections for Sister and me long before we were even married. We have loads of the lovely porcelain in a bevvy of shapes, forms and sizes to not only dine from, but to decorate with. On last count, I had nineteen place settings of my own, and I figure we could host a pretty grand soiree for about oh, say sixty, were we to combine our pieces.
Beyond just being gorgeous to look at, the china pattern is purported to tell the romantic story of a wealthy Mandarin whose daughter fell in love with a man outside of their social class. The father built a fence around his house to keep the young lovers apart, as he arranged a wedding with a powerful and socially acceptable Duke. The wedding was to take place on the day the blossom fell from the willow tree. On the eve of said wedding, the daughter's true love slipped into the palace unnoticed and the couple escaped, over a bridge to live happily for years. Eventually the angry Duke, hungry for revenge, found the lovers and put them to death. The Gods were said to have transformed the lovers into a pair of doves. Now, how many plates also illustrate an ancient love story?!?!
When we registered for crystal and silver, Honey meekly logged a complaint that he thought my beloved Blue Willow plates were too busy to eat from and perhaps we should consider something less obtrusive (read: boring). I promptly assured him that he wouldn't give a hoot what the plates looked like when he sat down to a home cooked meal. (And then I frantically started studying cookbooks to make good on my promise. At that point I could barely boil water.) Rest assured, we still dine on these plates day in and day out and Honey has kept his lips zipped about his china preferences. (Who ever heard of a man with china preferences anyway?)
Mother, sister, bestie C, her sweet mother and bestie N all dine from the very same plates. And if those gals aren't Southern through and through, I don't know who is.
xoxo
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