Melted Ice Cream and Googoosh

Arriving at the wedding, staying close to my charge.

Here I am trying to get my little companion to get back to her post.  There is the ice cream being served.

Googoosh circa. 1967

I remember the moment I learned that ice cream melts!  I was 4 years old and it was my uncle’s wedding.  My mother had used the fabric from her own wedding dress to sew me an outfit. It was a special occasion because as the only niece of the groom who was old enough to walk, I was chosen to help carry the bride’s train; the Persian equivalent of a flower girl.  I was sharing the job with the bride’s cousin, who unfortunately, was not taking it as seriously as I was.   She kept looking at the crowd and waving to people as we walked in.  Also, I was under the impression that we were on call all night and stayed close to the bride to help her with that bulk of fabric at any moment.  The little cousin disappeared as soon as the ceremony was over. At some point during the reception, we were served three scoops of ice cream in a glass dish.  I had eaten some of it and left the rest sitting on a ledge near the dance floor.  I don’t think I was dancing; I was probably watching the bride and groom dance and ready to jump in and hold that train if necessary. There was a live band and the teenage lead singer had everyone mesmerized.  We did not know at the time that she would go on to become Iran’s most famous singer, Googoosh, a classy mix of Marylin Monroe and Madonna.  Years later we always bragged about how Googoosh sang at our uncle’s wedding before she was famous.  Eventually I returned to my bowl of ice cream, picked it up and tilted it towards me to get another spoonful when the melted mess of chocolate and strawberry spilled all over my beautiful dress.  As a young perfectionist who never did anything to displease her mother, I was horrified and felt the ruin of the night in the pit of my stomach.  Did I go find my mother or did I try to hide from her, afraid at how displeased she would be that I had ruined the precious dress?  I can’t remember.  The next memory is of the two of us in a bathroom, trying to rinse out the mess.  After the party, the dress was put away and I never wore it again.  I don’t know whether it was because it was stained permanently or because I outgrew it before the next special occasion.  But the night of my Da’i Siavash’s wedding, will forever be associated in my mind with melted ice cream and Googoosh.

-Susan