Flowers made out of flour and water

migajon on a wedding veil

Embellishments made out of edible ingredients should be edible. This seems obvious enough, except when the rule is applied to weddings. There, a world of marzipan and fondant flowers beckons. I’m generally against this kind of nonsense, but after coming across migajon, I might be changing my mind.

Migajon is the craft of making decorative figures—typically flowers—out of bread paste. It’s the equivalent of lacquered, inedible bread showpieces that one learns about in culinary school and then promptly forgets. Like ice sculpture. But when my aunt’s wedding dress and veil were taken out of storage for our amusement recently, I was taken by the delicate flowers and awed by their staying power.

My mom grew up in El D.F.—Mexico City. So when it was time for her older sister to buy a wedding dress, only one designer would do: Tachi Castillo. A half-century ago, Tachi Castillo was the name in Mexican wedding dresses. Her dresses were traditional—webs of cotton with lacy detailing, empire waists and modest necklines—and practical. No ten-feet-long trains, no taffeta.

Tachi Castillo’s classic styles offer a pleasant respite from white, strapless, and belabored contemporary wedding dresses. My aunt’s dress was cotton, with long peasant sleeves and a lace back. The whole ensemble, which was capped off with an embroidered cotton veil, wouldn’t fly with contemporary brides (too modest unless the Virgin of Guadalupe is the inspiration). But these frocks were built to last. The cotton fabric was in incredible shape.

Which brings me back to the migajon. Crowning my aunt’s veil were delicate flowers. Yellowed with time, they looked like ivory and added a sweet, Old-World flourish. And unlike fondant flowers, which arguably also would last for decades, the migajon never pretended to be edible.

Tagged as: history, Mexico