Weddings are some of the most beautiful celebrations one can experience in their life (usually). The deep connection between two lovers taking physical form in a ceremonious act for all to see is one that a lot of couples look forward to.
However, it also comes with months upon months of planning, stress, and even more planning. The one thing that a bride cannot go without—the special dress. Whether it be white, maroon, black, fluffy, frilly, or form-fitting, it must make the wearer feel likе the most beautiful woman in the whole entire world.
Some brides take the plunge of crafting their own dresses, be it for the challenge, for the love of the craft, or both. Today we delve into the story of Veronika Lindberg Heino, or Kika, who knitted her special gown for her big day in 6 weeks. She was kind enough to answer some of Bored Panda’s questions so let’s get into it!
Veronika Lindberg Heino, better known by her nickname Kika, decided to take up the challenge of knitting her own stunning wedding dress
Image credits: kutovakika
If you were given 2.5 kg of yarn and 250 hours, what would you create? Mayhaps a blanket, mayhaps a 3D portrait, or maybe a knitted wedding dress. Seeing as you clicked on this article for a very particular reason, you probably know by now that we’ll be speaking about the last option.
Opening herself to the challenge was Veronika Lindberg Heino, better known by her nickname Kika, who documented the birth of her special white dress, sharing the ups and downs with her followers on Instagram (which she started in 2017) and YouTube.
This project came about when she and her husband-to-be were both moving house and planning an impromptu wedding, making for a very stressful 7 weeks
Image credits: kutovakika
For what was already an intense project, life decided to add an extra bit of *spice*: they were moving house and planning their wedding, happening 7 weeks later, at the same time, so why not add in a project of great significance on top of it all? Unless you’re as skiIIed as Kika, I wouldn’t recommend it!
“I do love a challenge and I’m often a little bit over-ambitious, and the thought felt so wild and inspiring that I just decided to take the risk and do it,” the Finland-based knitter told Good Morning America (GMA). “I ordered 2.5 kg of pure silk yarn and announced my crazy plan on Instagram, and knew right then, there was no turning back anymore.”
She ordered 2.5 kg of pure silk yarn and announced her plans to her followers on Instagram, getting the project officially started with no way to turn back
Image credits: kutovakika
Kika based her design around Dior, Chanel, and Ulla Johnson’s dresses. She then sketched and planned the patterns. After all that, the knitting began!
Image credits: kutovakika
Nothing worth doing ever comes easy. It was a struggle finding time to knit in between moving, planning the wedding, and publishing her first book
Image credits: kutovakika
Instead of throwing Kika off balance, this added project seemed to have the opposite effect: it kept her grounded through the tumultuous time, at least for a while. Nothing worth doing comes easy, and this project was no exception, especially as she’d never knitted a dress before.
“The process was definitely intense, and the biggest struggle was to find enough time for knitting since we were in the process of moving and organizing the wedding at the same time,” said Kika. “Plus I published my first-ever knitting book, so it was definitely hectic. But, I also enjoyed it immensely and loved seeing my vision come to life in the process.”
Image credits: kutovakika
Then a big setback occured—her bodice was far too big, requiring her to rip it all up and start again. Her sleeves then kept slipping off, which took lots of time to fix
Image credits: kutovakika
Glaring issues started appearing about two weeks in when Kika had finished the bodice and tried it on for the first time—it was way too big. Disappointed, but not defeated, the bride-to-be ripped it all up, starting all over again, describing it as “a tough and frustrating moment where some tears were shed.”
One more issue came along with the slippy sleeves that kept on slipping, revealing a tad bit too much, which Kika found hilarious yet time-consuming to fix. “I made sure to film all my mistakes so I could be real and honest with my viewers, rather than only showing them the picture-perfect moments,” she told Insider.
Not having any other option (you typically can’t just go and buy a dress off the rack, as those require alterations, which take a long time), she kept moving forward until it was one week til the wedding. Encouraging messages from her followers kept her spirits up, the promise she’d made to the project at the very beginning providing her with a sense of accountability.
However, “the biggest motivator was definitely seeing for myself if I could pull my idea and vision off, and the thought of having the dress as a memory for life really kept me going, too.”
But all that didn’t deter her! Just 4 days before the big day, the dress was finished and Kika got to have a well-deserved rest
Image credits: kutovakika
Everything was done. She finished her dress on Tuesday, feeling more tired and frustrated than elated, but once she put it on for the ceremony, she couldn’t have been happier with the end result.
Kika got married to her husband Jukka Heino on Saturday, September 10, at their new home (which inspired the cottage-themed wedding tone), just 4 days after she’d finished her dress. Although her partner was a bit more skeptical about her last-minute knitting project, “in the end, he was super impressed and proud of me, and thought it looked really good too,” Kika said.
Image credits: kutovakika
Kika told Bored Panda that they’d met back in Spring of 2020, when she moved back home to Finland from London, as the pandemic put the world in lockdown. “Just a few months after moving back I met Juki and for our first date we walked around in Helsinki for hours since all cafés and bars were closed due to the restrictions,” she said.
“I was immediately drawn to his humor and often colorful stories of his adventures which made me laugh, and of course I found him really handsome. I think he was drawn to my enthusiasm, something we both have in common and my positive attitude towards life.”
She married Jukka Heino on Saturday, September 10, at their new home. Everyone loved her dress, praising her for all the effort she’d put into it
Image credits: kutovakika
“Over the course of the day, guests would come up to me and immediately feel the dress and comment on it. It sometimes felt likе they were more interested in the dress than in me, but I love talking about knitting, so I didn’t mind too much,” she told Insider.
The entire process demanded around 45 days, roughly 250 hours, and 1.5 kg of pure silk yarn, costing 300 euros, or around $295, which is a bargain when it comes to wedding dresses, which go for $1,800 on average. Her 149k followers on Instagram absolutely loved the journey, jumping in with suggestions and support any time she needed it.
The entire process demanded around 45 days, roughly 250 hours, and 1.5 kg of pure silk yarn, costing 300 euros, or around $295
Image credits: kutovakika
The 46-minute vlog of the whole journey posted on YouTube has garnered over 3.4M views, quickly becoming the highlight of her channel, which has over 253k subscribers that look forward to her knitting tutorials. “I’m absolutely amazed by all the positive attention the video and my dress has gotten, wow!” said Kika.
“I’ve received messages from people all over the world telling me I’ve inspired them to take up knitting again or to learn it, which makes me so glad. I’m also proud that I’ve maybe been able to push the boundaries and show what is possible using knitting.”
According to Kika, “knitting was actually done primarily by men at some point in history, so the fact that knitting nowadays is associated with something mostly feminine hasn’t always been the case.” Knitting is not just for grandmas, y’all!
The 46-minute vlog of the entire process garnered over 3.4M views on YouTube, inspiring hundreds of people to take up or go back to the craft
Image credits: kutovakika
What began as a bonding activity with her grandma when she was 5 years old has become a lifestyle, bringing together likе-minded people from all over the world. The one lesson she’d always kept was to be playful with the craft, rather than searching for perfection.
“With knitting there are a lot of ‘rules’ or principles that come with the territory which sometimes can make it feel likе you’re not doing things the right way,” she told Bored Panda. “My grandmother always encouraged me to make things without getting hung up on perfection, being creative and playful was more important.”
She hopes her followers and those who jumped on the bandwagon to see the final dress get inspired to embrace creative projects they might feel tempted to try—“even if it might feel a bit ambitious, I say go for it!”
We wish Kika and Jukka all the best for their future together and can’t wait to see what’s coming up for them next!
Image credits: kutovakika
A post-pandemic resurgence of knitting is a very welcome sight for many who are getting into arts and crafts for the first time or returning back to the familiar time-passing activity. Recent research shows that knitting has a measurable effect on calming anxiety, relieving stress, and aiding with chronic pain, as well as helping one build a community of friends. And you end up with a cute hat and mittens in the meantime!
“I think knitting as a craft teaches you a lot about patience and really makes you think about what kind of garments you most likе to wear,” Kika said. “When you’re going to spend 40-60 hours making a sweater, you really want to make sure it’s something that is going to stay in your wardrobe for a long time, which makes knitting a very sustainable practice, too.”
Honestly, what’s not to love!? We wish Kika and Jukka all the best for their future together and hope to see many more exciting knitting projects! Let us know your thoughts on the dress in the comments below, and I shall see you in the next one!
People have absolutely loved this project and the final dress. Let us know your thoughts in the comments below!
My First Love and I Agreed to Travel the World Together After Retirement — But When I Arrived at the Meeting Spot, a Man Was Waiting for Me
When John returns to the bench where he and his first love once promised to reunite at 65, he doesn’t expect her husband to show up instead. But when the past collides with the present, old promises give way to unexpected beginnings… and a new kind of love steps quietly into the light.
When I was 17, Lucy was everything to me.
We had it all. From secret notes folded into squares and passed under desks, first kisses under the bleachers, promises whispered like prayers into the dark. And one of those promises was simple.
A young couple | Source: Unsplash
“If we can’t be together now, let’s meet at 65, when we’re well into our lives. If we’re single, then let’s see where we’ll go. If we’re married, then we’ll catch up about our spouses and children if we have any… Deal?”
“Deal,” Lucy had said, smiling sadly.
We picked a place. A little park with a pond on the edge of a quiet city. A wooden bench, nestled beneath a pair of sprawling old trees. No matter what.
Life, of course, pulled us apart the way it always does. Her family moved across the ocean. I stayed, put down roots, lived a long and full life.
I did it all.
A bench in a park | Source: Unsplash
Marriage, two kids, a messy divorce, five grandkids who now tower over me. But through it all. Birthdays, holidays, years stacked on years… but on Lucy’s birthday, I thought of her.
And when I turned 65, I packed a bag and went back to the city, and checked into a motel. I felt like 17 again.
Suddenly, life was bright again. Full of possibilities. Full of hope.
The exterior of a motel room | Source: Pexels
The air was crisp, the trees dressed in golden jackets, and the sky hung low and soft, like it was holding its breath. I followed the winding path, each step slow, deliberate, like I was retracing a dream I wasn’t sure was real.
My hands were jammed into my coat pockets, my fingers curled tight around a photograph I didn’t need to look at anymore.
I saw it. The bench. Our bench. Still nestled between the two ancient trees, their branches reaching over like old friends leaning in close. The wood was darker than I remembered, worn smooth by time and weather… but it was still ours.
A bench in a park | Source: Unsplash
And it wasn’t empty.
A man was sitting there. Mid-sixties, maybe a bit older. He had neatly trimmed gray hair and wore a charcoal suit that didn’t quite match the softness of the afternoon. He looked like he’d been waiting, but not with kindness.
He stood slowly as I approached, as if bracing himself for a confrontation.
“Are you John?” he asked, his voice flat.
“Yeah, I am,” I said, my heart inching into my throat. “Where’s Lucy? Who are you?”
An elderly man sitting on a bench | Source: Pexels
His eyes flickered once, but he held his posture. He looked like every breath cost him something.
“Arthur,” he said simply. “She’s not coming.”
“Why? Is she okay?” I froze.
He took a sharp breath, then let it out through his nose.
An elderly man looking down | Source: Pexels
“Well, John. Lucy is my wife,” he said tightly. “She’s been my wife for 35 years. She told me about your little agreement. I didn’t want her to come. So, I’m here to tell you… she’s not.“
His words landed like sleet. Wet, sharp, and unwanted.
And then, through the trees, over the sound of leaves skipping along the path, I heard footsteps.
Trees in a park | Source: Pexels
Quick. Light. Urgent.
A figure appeared, weaving through the golden blur of the afternoon. Small, fast, and breathless. Silver hair pulled back in a loose knot that bounced with every step. A scarf trailed behind her like a forgotten ribbon.
Lucy.
My Lucy.
“Lucy! What are you doing here?” Arthur spun around, startled, his eyes wide.
An elderly woman standing outside | Source: Pexels
She didn’t slow down. Her voice rang out. She sounded like herself but more… determined.
Clear. Controlled. Sharp as frost.
“Just because you tried to keep me locked up at home, Arthur, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t find a way out! You’re ridiculous for pulling that stunt!”
The exterior of a home | Source: Pexels
She must’ve left right after him. Maybe she’d waited until he turned the corner. Maybe she watched him walk away and made her decision the moment that door clicked shut.
Whatever it was, the sight of her now… bold and defiant, stirred something in me. Something fierce. Something young.
Lucy stopped in front of me, chest rising and falling. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, from the sprint, maybe even from nerves. But her eyes, my God, those eyes, they softened when they met mine.
A close up of an elderly woman | Source: Pexels
“John,” she said gently, as though no years had passed at all. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Then she hugged me. Not out of politeness. Not for show. It was the kind of embrace that reached all the way back through time. One that said I never forgot about you. One that said you mattered all along.
Arthur cleared his throat behind us, sharp and intentional. And just like that, the spell broke.
An elderly couple embracing at a park | Source: Pexels
We ended up at a coffee shop nearby. The three of us, sitting in a triangle of awkward energy. Arthur scowled into his coffee. Lucy and I talked, haltingly at first, then like old friends who’d been on pause too long.
She showed me a picture of her daughter. I showed her my grandson’s graduation photo. Our voices filled the silence with old stories and echoes.
Then, suddenly, Lucy leaned across the table and brushed her fingers over mine. My body almost recoiled at her touch… Arthur was right there.
People at a coffee shop | Source: Pexels
“John,” she began softly. “Do you still have feelings for me? After all this time?”
I hesitated. I didn’t know how to answer this question. Maybe… maybe I did have feelings for her. But maybe they were just for the memory of who we were.
“Maybe a little,” I said. “But mostly, I’m just happy to see that you’re okay.”
A close up of an elderly man | Source: Pexels
We parted ways without exchanging numbers. There were no grand declarations. No lingering stares. It was just a quiet understanding. Closure, I thought. The kind that aches but doesn’t… bleed.
Then, a week later, someone knocked on my door.
It was late afternoon. The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the living room floor. I wasn’t expecting anyone. I shuffled to the door, still in socks, a mug of lukewarm tea in my hand. When I opened it, I blinked.
A person standing on a porch | Source: Pexels
Arthur.
He stood stiffly on my porch, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. His posture was defensive, like a man bracing for a swing.
“Are you planning on stealing my wife, John?” he asked bluntly, his eyes fixed somewhere over my shoulder.
“Excuse me?” I stared at him.
“She told me that you used to be in love with her,” he said. “Still might be. So, I’d like to know.”
I set the mug down on the side table in the hallway, my hands were suddenly unsteady.
A mug of tea on a table | Source: Unsplash
“I couldn’t steal Lucy even if I tried, Arthur. She’s not someone to be taken. She’s her own person. And she loves you. That’s enough for me. I was just honoring a promise that we made decades ago. I didn’t go to the park with any expectations other than to see Lucy all happy in her old age.”
Arthur looked like he didn’t know what to do with that. He rocked slightly on his heels, eyes scanning the floorboards.
“We’re having a barbecue next weekend, John,” he said after a moment of silence. “You’re invited, okay?”
An elderly man sitting on a porch step | Source: Pexels
“Seriously?” I blinked.
“She wants you there,” he said, dragging each word out like it tasted bad to him. “And… Lucy wants to set you up with someone.”
The air between us thickened. He looked like he wanted to evaporate.
“And you’re okay with that?” I laughed.
“No, but I’m trying. Honestly, I am,” he sighed.
A smiling older woman reading a magazine | Source: Pexels
“How did you even find me?” I called after him as he turned to leave.
“Lucy remembered your address. She said that you never moved and told me where to find you.”
And just like that, he walked off down the street, leaving behind silence and something unexpected: the sense that maybe this story simply wasn’t over yet.
An elderly man walking away | Source: Pixabay
After Arthur left, I felt a surge of energy. It wasn’t about Lucy. It was true, what I’d told her husband. I didn’t have any expectations about Lucy and us rekindling what we’d had in our youth.
If I was truly honest with myself, I wasn’t sure about being in a relationship again. At my age, was it worth all the drama? I was fine with just being a grandfather.
I went about my day making French toast and humming to myself. I didn’t know who Lucy wanted to set me up with, but the thought of getting out of the house felt good.
A plate of French toast | Source: Unsplash
The next weekend, I showed up with a bottle of wine and low expectations.
Lucy greeted me with a hug and wink, the same way she used to years ago when we snuck off during school breaks. Arthur gave me a grunt that was more bark than bite. And before I could fully step into the backyard, Lucy looped her arm through mine.
People in a backyard | Source: Pexels
“Come help me pour drinks,” she said.
We walked into the kitchen, the clink of cutlery and hum of laughter drifting behind us. She opened the fridge, pulled out a pitcher of lemonade and handed me a glass.
“She’s here, you know,” Lucy said, pouring another glass of lemonade. “The woman that I’d like you to meet.”
“Really?” I asked, already knowing.
A glass of lemonade | Source: Unsplash
“Grace, that’s her name,” Lucy smiled. “She’s a friend from the community center. She lost her husband six years ago. She reads like it’s a full-time job, volunteers at the library and she’s got a thing for terrible wine… and even worse puns. Seriously, John, she’s the kind of woman who remembers your birthday and shows up with carrot cake before you even ask.”
I glanced through the kitchen window. Grace was outside, laughing at something Arthur said, her sunhat slightly askew, earrings swinging. She looked comfortable.
The interior of a library | Source: Unsplash
Open.
“She’s kind,” Lucy added, softer now. “The kind of kind that doesn’t need a spotlight, you know?”
“Why are you telling me all this?” I asked, sipping the lemonade.
Lucy looked at me for a long moment.
A smiling older woman | Source: Pexels
“Because you’ve loved well, John. And you’ve lost hard… And I think it’s time you met someone who might just understand both.”
Back outside, Grace smiled when I approached her. We walked over grilled corn and folded lawn chairs, our conversation easy and light. She teased Arthur. She called me out for trying to win a card game by bluffing.
She laughed with her whole chest, head thrown back like the sky was in on the joke.
Corn on a grill | Source: Pexels
After six months of letters tucked into books, long walks, and sunrise breakfasts at quiet coffee shops, Grace and I were officially dating. It wasn’t electric.
But it was true.
One day, the four of us took a trip to the ocean. A rental cottage. Seafood dinners. Late-night poker games.
A seafood boil on a tray | Source: Pexels
Arthur eventually stopped treating me like a threat and started calling me by my first name. Without ice in his voice. That was progress.
On the last day, I sat beside Lucy on the sand, warm light pouring over everything. Grace and Arthur were wading out into the water, half-challenging the waves.
“You don’t have to cling to the past, John,” Lucy said gently. “You’re allowed to move forward. But never forget what the past gave you. Never forget what Miranda gave you… a family. All of that is why you are who you are…”
Birds flying over the sea | Source: Unsplash
And in that moment, watching the two people we had grown to love splash in the sea, I realized she was right.
Lucy and I weren’t each other’s endings. But we’d helped each other begin again. And that was more than I’d ever hoped for. Maybe I needed more than just being a grandfather…
As the sun dipped lower, Grace walked back toward me, barefoot and glowing, a seashell cupped in her palm.
A seashell on the beach | Source: Unsplash
“I found this,” she said, holding it out. “It’s chipped. But it’s also kind of perfect, don’t you think?”
“Like most good things,” I said, taking the shell and tracing the ridges with my thumb.
She sat beside me, her shoulder brushing mine. Neither of us spoke for a moment. The tide whispered its rhythm, slow and steady.
An elderly couple standing together | Source: Pexels
“I saw you with Lucy,” Grace said softly. “I know you have history.”
“We were young,” I nodded. “But it was important.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m here, with you.”
An elderly couple embracing | Source: Pexels
She didn’t look at me right away. Instead, she reached for my hand and laced her fingers through mine. Her skin was warm and familiar in a way that felt like it had taken a long time to earn.
“I don’t need to be your first,” she said. “Not at our old age anyway. But I just want to be someone who makes the rest of the story worth telling.”
I looked at her then, really looked, and felt something settle in my chest. A kind of peace I hadn’t known I needed.
“Oh, Gracie. You already are.”
An elderly couple holding each other | Source: Pexels
What would you have done?
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