The Maid of Buttermere - Fable Inspired Bridal Story
The husband and wife film photography team of Taylor & Porter never cease to amaze us. We have not yet met artists in this industry who love the art of storytelling quite as much as these two. The legend of the beautiful Maid of Buttermere is an enchanting story and one that inspires our love for natural beauty and organic, 'of the earth' bridal style. Below is a lovely explanation and storyline for this perfect start to our Thursday...
From Lakeland based Stylist & Planner, Tebbey & Co: "'The Maid of Buttermere' was a Lakeland Innkeeper's daughter in the 18th century. She was famed for her dark haired, porcelain beauty - Wordsworth and Coleridge wrote about her and she was even mentioned in a tourist guide to the Lake District. She was a simple Shepherdess who became a tourist attraction because she was so lovely. Our shoot developed this as a bridal inspiration piece; keeping a feeling of organic wild romance; a woman entwined with her land. She needed little adornment and is at one with her rural landscape which has remained unspoilt and largely unchanged in over 200 years. We saw her character as being humble and modest; possessing inner grace. She takes to the outdoors to find sanctuary, preferring quiet contemplation to noisy adulation.
We captured this story on the very last day of September. Autumn is my favourite season and we were blessed with the most beautiful golden light. In preparation for the shoot we read 'To Autumn" by English Romantic Poet, John Keats which perfectly captures the feeling of this special season.'
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,-
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Photography: Taylor & Porter | Film Lab: Richard Photo Lab | Design & Styling: Tebbey & Co | Florals: Wild Bunch | Hair & Makeup: Lucy Pearson | Dress: Cherry Williams London | Cake: Amy Swann | Calligraphy: Calligraphy for Weddings | Rings: Rust | Velvet Ribbons: VV Rouleaux | Silk Ribbons: Silk & Willow | Beeswax Candles: Moorlands Candles | Westmorland Green Slate: Honister Slate Mine | Blanket: National Trust