Well, one member in particular. I've tried to be as patient as possible, but sometimes patience fails me. And when things go awry, it's easy to feel like she's trying to sabotage this whole thing...
Oh, but Brooke, you're so damn cute! This past week our precious little ringbearer (ringdoger? She's certainly not a bear...) got the idea to pee on the living room floor while we were asleep and we didn't catch it until later in the morning. This has resulted in some unfortunate buckling of our high-quality parquet flooring. That we do not own. That we're sure the apartment complex people will be none too happy is damaged. And this buckling is not minor, feel-it-give-a-little-under-your-feet buckling, it's full-fledged trip-you-and-cause-you-to-take-a-header-into-the-coffee-table buckling. It feels lethal. And expensive. Not a great combination.
So Brooke, I'm not trying to be all Bridezilla or anything, but seeing as you are our ringbearer, do you think you could stop trying to kill us with the floor, mmmkay? So that this whole shindig actually happens in 10 days? Kthanksbye.
Special thanks to elise for her help with this one!
Many brides vent about their RSVP situation. They have to chase down half or more of the guests by phone, email, or Facebook. In contrast, ours was really pretty tame. Sure, we had a few late responders, but almost everyone was good about getting us an answer once they realized they had blown the RSVP deadline. I did, however, have the funniest conversation with my 91-year-old grandfather about a relative of mine. This relative was a little late in responding, and my grandpa offered to check in with him, which was much appreciated. I received the following call from my grandfather as I am sitting in the pedicure chair, I'm sure sounding like the requisite bridezilla to the rest of the nail salon.
Grandpa: Uncle So-and-so is coming Me: Great! Is he bringing a date? Grandpa: Huh? Me: A date? Is he bringing a date? Grandpa: A what? Me: A date. Grandpa: A what?? Me: A date. A girlfriend. A female. A lady friend. A fiance. An escort… Grandpa: Why do you need to know? Do you need to have a meal or something for her?
At this point, I am half laughing, half incredulous, and another half frustrated.
Me: Yes, I need to have a meal for her, a place for her at the table, and a placecard. This is a formal sit-down dinner, not a BBQ. Grandpa: Well, I'll eat a hot dog.
/dead. I nearly fell out of my pampered princess pedicure chair laughing. I mean, what do you say to that? And what a cute reminder that the minutia, while it does matter in a practical sense, is just fluff to those who will be at this shindig to support you, and for no other reason. They will, indeed, eat a hot dog, if that's what you're serving!
To borrow another blogger's timeline-oriented signoff: I'm 12 days away from the wedding and remembering how lucky I am to have people who make my life so rich.
For some reason, whenever I hear the phrase "something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue", I think of the scene in 90210 when Brenda is about to elope with Stuart Carson, but her friends get wind of it, show up and help her get ready. At the last minute, they realize she's missing her important old, new, borrowed, and blue items and outfit her accordingly. Everyone seems, of course, to be armed with the perfect accroutrements, as it may be, but this is television, so I expect nothing less.
I couldn't find the actual scene, so this will have to do. I do like a daily dose of BH-9-er.
I realized recently that while I'd secured something blue (a blue topaz right-hand ring Groomy scored from Overstock), I was missing new, borrowed, and old items…what to do?
Well, I guess my dress is new. My undies certainly are. But what about old and borrowed? All my jewelry has already been picked out and is not old (it's not even real, heehee…keepin' it classy!). I toyed with the idea of wearing really old underwear, but that seemed a little odd (and, again, oh so classy). Even more odd is the idea of wearing borrowed underwear…
By no means do I think my marriage is doomed without these items, but I'd like very much to participate in this tradition, if possible. Any ideas?
PWD? WTF, is that like NWA? Sadly, it's not an old-school rap group. That would be fun, though.
If you've ever seen this:
and laughed yourself silly, you've heard of the big PWD: Post-Wedding Depression. While I sincerely feel for its sufferers, I just don't think that'll be me in 4 weeks. Dude, I'll be so glad when this is over! I want my free time back.
Sure, I'll miss having a project (although it's easy to remedy that!), but I won't miss worrying about whether two shades of purple match or coordinate, or whether I've got the right font. I won't miss spending the hours of 10-11 pm and 7-8 am tying ribbons in a desperate effort to get these wedding projects done around my jam-packed work schedule. I won't miss figuring out how to best make 140 people feel happy and comfortable even though there are only 5 prime tables in the space. I won't miss the detail work. I won't miss the extreme pressure to make this wedding and engagement the "best time of our lives" even though it's really only a small part of the many years we'll spend as a couple. I won't miss feeling let down by people and wondering if my memories of them will be what taints this "best time" in my life. I won't miss the ever-present theme of family that permeates a wedding, a constant reminder that members of mine are conspicuously absent.
Don't get me wrong. I love our wedding. I love Groomy and I love that we're going to be married in just over two weeks. I have loved a lot of the planning and there are a ton of things that I will miss. I will miss watching Groomy diligently mold 200 chocolate lobster favors, staying up late 3 weeknights in a row and sacrificing the better part of a Sunday. Have you ever heard of such groomal dedication? I will miss doing fun girly wedding things with my friends, like dress shopping and fittings. I will miss sitting down to a Lifetime movie marathon with a craft project in front of me, knowing that Tori Spelling and I will get things done, one way or another. I will miss the feeling of elation you get when you see a project come together after countless hours of thought and hard work. And I will never forget the amazing feeling that is the outpouring of love we've received from so many people.
Getting married teaches you many lessons. I know that our lives will change and Groomy and I become husband and wife. Separate and apart from that, planning the party that is a wedding teaches you many distinct lessons as well. You learn about priorities, both yours and others', relationships, both family and friends, financial management skills, both yours and your fiancé's…I could go on and on. I've learned a lot in the past year, but I'm anxious to move on with our lives and see what the next chapter holds. So, no PWD for this bride. It's full speed ahead to the rest of our amazing lives.
In the wedding-planning world, it's pretty popular to bash knotties . Search "knotties" or "theknot" on other popular wedding websites and you'll see what I mean. The ladies over at other community sites think we're awful. The offshoots of the knot - thenest and thebump, have similar reputations. And, while I've had my share of unflattering things to say about the knotties, it occurred to me that I should give them their due credit as well.
As you readers know, I was engaged once before. For my entire year-long engagement, I was a very active knot community member, so much so that it was probably a bad idea, but I thought my internet friends were just grand! We participate in G2Gs (get-togethers, for the uninitiated), became Facebook friends, and even attended each others' weddings whenever a knottie came in under her inflated North Jersey reception hall minimum, so they weren't just the people in the computer who talked to me - they were real. Having a group of girls all planning their weddings together gives you an endless number of resources, referrals, and ideas that you can't get from bridal magazines and would otherwise have to pay for from wedding planners. It was super! Except, like any big group of girls, we had our moments. We were cliquey, mean, withering, condesending know-it-alls who stuck together. Which was great, until you wound up on the other side. Then, it totally sucked.
You know where this is going, don't you? I started to doubt my relationship and wanted to call off my wedding. I shared my feelings (WAY too much of them) with my internet friends and they revolted. They couldn't understand why I'd want to leave a man who loved me or why I'd share my personal business on the web. On that second one, they really had a good point, but we're talking about people who regularly listed their sexual preferences on a public message board as well as the link to half-nakes photos of themselves, so I wasn't really "getting it" at that point. To make a long story short, I wound up on the wrong end of the knottie mob mentality. Not a fun place, to say the least. Insults were hurled, accusations were made, and the whole thing just kind of fell apart in my hands. I was crushed that all my internet friends seemed not only to have turned against me, but to delight in my misfortune.
This was over two years ago. I swore off the knot and moved on with my life, but did retain some of my knottie Facebook friends. Not every knottie is evil, I promise you. Despite the mob mentality, there were a few knotties who were real friends to me, and didn't participate in the bashing. And I'm glad I held on to them. They've gotten me job interviews, met me for after-work drinks, gone out to see bands with me, offered me their advice and the benefit of their experience both in wedding-planning (the second time around) and life. I feel fortunate that I've been able to return many of those favors, as well. Two of those fake internet friends were even in attendance at my bridal shower and will be at my wedding next month. Ironically, it was my knottie friend who won the "How well do you know the bride" contest. I'm not sure whether to be tickled or ashamed by that!
The takeaway from all this is not only that you can't judge an entire group of people by the bad behavior of a few, but that sometimes there's something to be learned from even the unkind behavior of others. Truth is, two years ago, I needed to get off the damn computer and live out my life, for better or for worse. Even though the knotties were a little evil in their methods, I got the message. And now, after the dust has settled, I would up with friends who've stood the test of time. Well, 3 years is pretty long in the land of the knot, anyway!
As I wrote these words as the subject line of an email early on a Sunday morning, I couldn't resist noting their ridiculousness in the text of my email just below. Who has an "envelope emergency"? Hallmark? It just sounds ludicrous.
We had, at this point, spent something like 4 and a half months on our invitation suite, going back and forth with our designer to strike the right balance between "formal" and "vintage-y", trying to make sure our invite looked modern but still fancy. While I love wedding blogs, I'm not really a visual person, so it took a lot of time to get there. Add in the fact that certain pocketfolds only come in these 14 colors (that are not "our" color), and certain inserts only go into certain pocketfolds, and you can't print on certain envelopes, and...omg, I thought my head was going to explode. Oh, and lawyers + proofreading = absolute madness. I think Groomy was the first one of our invitation designer's customers to ever look up the correct French wording for R.S.V.P.
So, we get the invitations (gorgeous!), spend inordinate amounts of time assembling them, numbering the RSVP cards in invisible ink (in case someone forgets to write their name, we won't have to spend hours playing CSI: Home Edition to figure out who they are), folding 115 belly bands and tying 115 ribbons. Awesome. We send our envelopes off to the calligrapher complete with ridiculously organized excel guest list and custom-made envelope liner paper and wait.
We wait and wait until we're a few days past the "deadline" for mailing (1 month before the RSVP date). I don't freak out, because, hey, what's a few days? I'm Laid-Back Cool Bride.
Finally, I start to get a little antsy and, when the calligrapher tells me the envelopes are ready to ship, I ask her to overnight them, so we can get everything stuffed and stamped.
We get them on that glorious Sunday morning, as we're rushing out to meet with our day-of coordinator, and open the box excitedly. They're....pink...ish? Ok, weird, but not terrible. I guess brown meant something different to me than to her. I flip the envelope over to see gorgeous chocolate brown for the return address. Cool! 'Cept they don't match...oh well! Let's look at the lining I debated over for a week! Yay.
Oh...it looks...kind of like crap. It's crooked and there's glue spilling out of the side. It's not the same shape as the envelope. Oh. Hmmm. I'm kind of pissed at this point. I look at Groomy and flatly announce "I don't like them." this quickly escalates into "I am not sending our gorgeous invitations in thesecrappyenvelopesandifIwantedthemtolookcrappyIwould'vedonethemmyself...."
You see, gentle readers, this calligrapher charges a significant amount of money for these services. So when I got back work that looked like I could've done it at home for free while watching a Criminal Minds marathon on A&E, it made me a little cranky.
So, what to do? Calligrapher used all our envelopes, so we've got to get more, at least as a first step. This is when I sat down and typed the hurried "Envelope Emergency" email to my invitation designer, all the while laughing at myself just a little. In the end, everything turned out fine. Groomy and I scoured the city for similar envelopes, lined them ourselves, and found a new calligrapher. And, unlike the original plan for our envelopes, where I made most of the decisions and arrangements, we did it together. We had to change the style of the envelopes and the liners last minute, but I like ours better. And we will always have the memory of Groomy with my pink paper cutter showing me the right way to cut the liners and knowing that, no, I am not the queen of all things crafty and wedding and how glad I am that my fiance is here alongside me, working things out.
So, I blogged about all the boring stuff you do 8 months out, and then I dropped out just when things got interesting. I suck, eh?
Now, we're about two months out and things are finally happening! Invitations are assembled and on their way out the door (not without a tiny bit of drama, natch), dresses are in (some fit, some don't), and this is all beginning to feel real. Somewhere along the line, it occurred to me that this is it. For better or worse, this is our engagement and our wedding. Whatever happens, these are the memories we are going to have for the rest of our lives.
This is why I hung my head in shame after I yelled at Groomy about envelopes. Was I yelling AT him? Not really. But when we got our envelopes back from the calligrapher and they looked kind of like they were prepared by a visually-impaired retirement home resident with decreased motor skills, and Groomy dared to imply that no one would notice, I kind of...lost it. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO ONE WILL NOTICE? I WILL NOTICE!!!!", I bellowed. Smooth move, there, Bridezilla. Luckily, Groomy knows enough not to take my Incredible Hulk persona seriously. And I apologized profusely.
Not that we all haven't had our share of moments. When I inquired as to the status of some wedding task Groomy should've completed a while back, he icily informed me he was "working" in a condescending tone. My reply, that I had never held a job and certainly couldn't imagine what it's like to be a lawyer, had us giggling afterwards. While I can't say it's a great thing that we let the wedding stress get to us every now and then, I am glad that we are going through it together. I feel like it's a testament to our relationship that we can make it though the tough moments and let them roll off our collective back. It makes the moment we've spent all this time preparing for, that moment we become husband and wife, that much sweeter.
When I left off, we were going nowhere fast for our honeymoon. I hate to fly and didn't feel like taking a road trip to the nearest Waffle House or Cracker Barrel (although I'm not above that, no sir) and calling it a day. We were in a stalemate, me all panicky and height-fearing, and Groomy, all rational and wanting-to-go-on-a-nice-honeymooning (I mean, really, who does he think he is??). All the close destinations were either hurricane hazards at that time of year or just didn't thrill one or both of us. That was, until I stumbled upon this little beauty on TripAdvisor:
Ignoring the obvious preposition issue, I knew this was where we had to go. I mean, look at those turtles. There are lots, and apparently you can swim with them! Right there, I'm a happy camper. Also, these turtles happen to be in an amazing destination - Bora Bora. Not too shabby, eh? (yes, now I'm Canadian. Just go with it, ok?)
I know, I know, it's a pretty long flight. Almost 14 hours, split between 2 planes, and none of it will be first class. Airlines are apparently pretty stingy with their upgrades and they wanted something like the cost of our entire vacation to stick us with the beautiful people up front. However, we'll be flying a red eye out of LAX and, from what I've read, Air Tahiti does a bang-up job in coach class. Also, I think Groomy is planning to drug me with Ambien and red wine. I'll pretend I don't know for now and con him into buying me a Kindle for the plane ride.
We'll actually be splitting our trip between two islands, Moorea and Bora Bora. We'll be staying at the Hilton in Moorea in one of those spiffy overwater bungalows:
Hopefully watching sunsets that look like this:In Bora Bora, we're at the Four Seasons:Umm, wow.
Our room will look something like this:
Apparently the bathtub looks out onto the water. Sweet!
Needless to say, we are so excited about what looks like the vacation of a lifetime. Assuming I get through the flight without any emotional or physical scars, it should be just that.
As you may have gathered from my previous posts, I love wedding dresses. So I couldn't resist one more entry about my search. Because Groomy reads this blog, I can't reveal the dress I finally chose, but let's just say I think he'll like it.
When we left off, I had spent approximately a month living and breathing wedding dresses. Designers' websites, blogs, pre-owned sites, Google image search - you name it, I was looking at it. I wanted to know everything that was out there, where I could try it on, and how it looked on real brides. My top contenders were all over the map including a mermaid, a trumpet, several with dropped waists, and a couple of ballgowns thrown in for good measure. How was I ever going to pick just one?
Lots of brides today wear more than one gown - perhaps a big, traditional dress for the ceremony and a sexy one for the reception. I didn't want to go that route. It seems excessive and many brides have told me that they didn't want to take off their gown that night, not even to put another fabulous dress on (or to go to bed, even!). So, I knew if I could only have one, it had to be "the one" that I'd never want to take off.
Many brides say that finding their dress is a magical experience. There are tears and smiles and puppies and unicorns shitting out rainbows. It's a powerful experience. Well, not for this bride. I'm not ooey-gooey, mushy, or sentimental. I hate romantic comedies and crack jokes over characters' poor clothing choices during touching scenes on TV. Having come in to this process with a notebook filled with dresses I wanted to try and very specific guidelines, I figured choosing one would be a fairly analytical process. I even toyed with a scoring system.
That went down the tubes when the saleslady zipped me into MY dress, and my stupid ass burst into tears. I stood on that insipid little platform they put munchkins like me on to simulate the normal height we'll never achieve (and where they put tall chicks so they can feel ever more superior) with actual tears running down my cheeks, completely ashamed of myself, repeating "Who the hell cries over a dress?" My bridesmaids, surprised and more than a little amused, came to the rescue with tissues and eye-makeup remover (Bridesmaiderson J is like a beauty-counter MacGyver, apparently).
And so, just like that, she was mine. It was all kind of perfect, actually. This was a dress I had specifically set out to try from the get-go, and met all of my qualifications, including budget, so I was not too surprised that it wound up being my dress. This wasn't even the first time I'd tried it on, and it had been dancing around in my head since our first encounter. What did surprise me was the jackass crying and the possessive feeling I developed for the dress. It's supposed to come in to the shop this month and I'm jiggling around like a toddler after a large fountain soda waiting for the call.
I guess when you find the one, you know it. Even if you're a cynical old curmudgeon like me!
Here's the thing: I am always late. Case in point: I've been meaning to write this particular blog post for about a week. See?
Also, in the past two years, I have moved twice. The first time, I cut my commute down from 1.5 hours to 45 minutes. the second time, it went down to 20 minutes. Wouldn't you know, I still get to work at about the same (not early) time?
Groomy and I, as a unit, are even later than either of us on our own. Ask our friends. We're been known to be an hour late for things. (An hour is a much more reasonable period of time than our usual lateness, so let's just pretend an hour is as late as we get. Because it's been ridiculous at times.) This is one reason why I'm glad we'll be separated until the ceremony on the wedding day. In theory, it'll cut down on the lateness factor.
It's an understatement to say I'm worried about being late for my own wedding - I know that it's one event that can't start without me! While some people may think this makes it ok to be late, I think it makes it even more unacceptably rude. So, I've already started on timelines for the big day in an effort to ensure everyone's where they need to be on time and that we have a significant time cushion for the inevitable mishap.
Thankfully for me, the wedding industry has made a cute little must-have template. Because a word document is just daft, my dear:
I have no idea how to actually make something like this happen (I think it involves Power Point), but I'm going to shop for some cardstock anyway!
*For the record, there's no church involved in our wedding. What can I say? We're heathens. It fits our bad-ass lawyerly image.
Ok, so we talked about the requirements: no shots, no long flights, no repeat vacations, nothing in the hurricane belt. Where did this leave us? Pretty much, Colonial Williamsburg.
I'll give a shout out to my boy Paul Revere (geographically inaccurate, but a a fun reference), but say that this was not what I had in mind. I was thinking sun, sand, romance, and something with more of a once-in-a-lifetime feel.
This led us to Costa Rica. I was initially drawn to Costa Rica because of the rain forest. One of my dreams has always been to go on safari (but...shots...ahhh!) and the idea of seeing rain forest wildlife was almost as good. The photos of various Costa Rican resorts confirmed that losanimales were plentiful.
I talked to friends who honeymooned there, researched hotels and flights, and I thought we were set. This was gonna rock! However, I neglected to check the weather. Oops. September/October is part of the "rainy season" in Costa Rica. This was literally the last piece of information I uncovered. Not because it was hidden, but because I tend to get ahead of myself. While it's not fatal to a vacation, I didn't want to take the chance that our planned tours and daytrips would fall prey to the rain. Plus, what I read indicated that Costa Rica's roads are not all well-paved and that they can be very hard to travel in a heavy rain. I didn't want to chance it.
However, I did learn a few things from this experience: (1) read Fodor's or a similar travel site for the basics before delving deep into a certain destination, and (2) Costa Rica will make an excellent future vacation destination.
I promise I'll tell you all about where we decided to go in the next entry. When we finally made the decision, it was as much excitement as relief. We were so tired of the constant up and down of finding a place, thinking it was great, then finding a fatal flaw. Or worse, throwing around the idea of destinations that just didn't seem exciting, just to be done.
I think there's a certain pressure to make your honeymoon a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and, while that can be great, it makes the planning seem enormous. Also, I feel like everyone asks where you're going, and has an opinion. (Ok, that can be said for almost everything, wedding-related or not.) That can add a certain pressure too. Add the cost factor in, and it can get pretty overwhelming - here you are shelling out for a wedding, and, on top of that, you've got pressure to plan and pay for a week-long vacation on top of it, all in one relatively short period of time.
This is why a lot of couples plan a mini-moon and then a honeymoon for later. In our case, it would have solved the rainy season problem for Costa Rica and the hurricane season problem for the Caribbean. I think it's a great idea in general, but it didn't work for us, unfortunately.
Did you feel a pressure to make your honeymoon unique and/or extravagant?
source I'm afraid to fly. D'oh! I know, I know, the theme of this blog is becoming "how did she get anyone to agree to marry her?" I should call it "The Highly Improbable Bride" instead.
Can I get on a plane? Yes. Will I get on a plane? Sure! Will I freak out the moment we hit some rough air? You betcha! On Groomy's and my first vacation together, we were in the middle of our 4 hour flight when the plane hit some turbulence. Groomy was absorbed in his ipod, and was really shocked when he glanced over randomly and saw this: it was awful, but look how cute my dress was complete with me repeating the phrase "we're gonna die" over and over.
Thankfully, it was just a few bumps and no one was dying from a plane crash that day. But, as you can see, I have a wee small issue with panic. So the idea of taking a 14 hour flight to go somewhere exotic was less than appealing. Between that, the shots, and hurricane season, it looked as if our dream vacation was going to become a trip to Denny's.
Do you have any fears that altered your travel plans?
And, so, with that phrase, we enter the honeymoon planning phase of our adventure. Many couples are seeking exotic adventures, relaxing beaches, or total seclusion. Me? I was looking for a place where I wouldn't need to get any vaccinations before departure. Let's just say my fear of needles rivals my love of Taco Bell. Both are forces with which to be reckoned.
We also didn't want to go to a place either had already been, especially with, ahem...others. Luckily, Groomy and I are only moderately well-traveled. Finally, because our wedding is in September, there's the dreaded hurricane season with which to contend. Because I didn't want to end up like this, as romantic as some people think it is:
Thankfully, I've never had a birthday party where no one showed up. I was a bossy child, so perhaps my grandparents paid off some of the neighborhood kids to come, though - who knows? Anyway, I have this fear. I fear no one will come to our wedding.
I say this in a whisper, because it sounds kind of crazy. Of course people will come! I don't think we'll be standing all alone at the wedding with our officiant and an ocean of empty tables. That's irrational. But still, I worry. I worry when people say, in response to our Save the Dates, that they're going to be on vacation during the week of our wedding, and I worry when people say they can't come to our engagement party. But I mostly worry because I don't have much family (read: one person). I think that no one is obligated to attend or can't imagine not going, the way that your Aunt Edna would drop her Saturday date at the senior center because she's been waiting to see you married for 30 years. I don't think anyone feels that way about me. Feel free to send me your crazy Aunt Edna if she's getting bothersome!
Thankfully, Groomy comes from a large family who is totally excited about our wedding, so there will be people there. This I know for sure. We just won't do that bride's side/groom's side seating thing. That could get sticky.
Does an unconventional family situation leave you slightly anxious about the attendance at your event?
What the hell? Who hates Pringles so much they'd write a blog post about it?
Actually, I love Pringles. Those unnaturally uniform food products have inspired many an afternoon binge. I mean, snack. However, the title refers to this brilliant article I read recently about misheard song lyrics. Highly recommended. It made me snarf my Diet Pepsi.
Ok, so how many snack foods and beverages can I reference in a post about bouquet tosses? You'll have to wait and see.
The long and short of it is, we aren't having a bouquet toss. Why not? What about tradition? What about all the single ladies?
At 30, most of my girlfriends are already married, so the bouquet toss would necessitate calling all of 4 women onto the floor. I don't know about you, but if I were one of those 4, I'd be hella uncomfortable. Don't get me wrong, I like a social hookup as much as anyone (I mean, I used to...ha), but there are more subtle ways to let the bartender know you're traveling solo than having the DJ announce it two hours into the party while you saunter out into the middle of the floor for a well-lit 360 degree viewing. This isn't an auction.
Most of the ladies in my life were grateful for the omission of the fabled toss, save for Bridesmaiderson J, who was a little disappointed. I think J's boyfriend might be relieved, though...
What traditions do you plan to eschew on your big day, and which do you hold dear?
Today I got the Knot 7 Month (!!!!!!) email, replete with exclamations and informing me of two very important things : (1) I need to book a rehearsal dinner this month, and (2) Apparently, picking a bridesmaids' dresses "doesn't have to be a battle with your bridesmaids."
Ooh, goodie! Because I was ready to take those biotches out like South Central in the 90's. Seriously, do people actually fight with their bridesmaids over the dress?
Perhaps I've been spoiled, because my ladies were ever-so-accommodating. They had preferences, sure, but they were very reasonable. They wanted a dress that wasn't too expensive, but wasn't cheap-looking/feeling, either and no one wanted to wear a terrible color.
Initially, my idea was to choose a designer, a color, and a length, and let the girls choose their own dresses. However, I hit a roadblock with color: very few manufacturers seemed to carry the dark purple I was seeking. And, a lot of the dresses I liked didn't come in the fabric that came in my color, and a lot of them just didn't have a variety of dresses or styles in that color. Arghhh. My girls had fun trying on gowns, but I was starting to get a little frustrated.
Look at those beautiful pockets! And the rich purple! And the price! I was quoted about $125 per dress from the bridal shop. Awesome. I stopped at the shop with Groomy to check out the quality and color of the fabric, and FAIL. It was kind of...coarse, but not stiff. Pliant, but not soft. It caught on my fingers when I ran my hand over it, and the sheen made it look sort of peaked. Yes, the fabric looked sickly. I like to personify, so sue me...
Put nicely, it was not the best quality satin especially compared with comparably-priced dresses, like Bill Levkoff. Oh no, this dress would not do. Would you pay $125 plus alterations for a dress you didn't think was good quality? I wouldn't. So it was back to the drawing board and goodbye to my beautiful, modern, hip pockets. However, Groomy, believe it or not, had something up his sleeve, but I'll save that story for next time.
Did you have to let go of something you loved for the greater good?
When entering the world of wedding websites, I was aiming for relative anonymity. Which is why, when I signed up to use the knot's extensive advertisements, ahem, services before we were officially engaged, I plugged in fake names for me and Groomy. For Groomy, the first name that came to mind was Chanandler Bong.
It's funny, I'm not even that big of a Friends fan, but you have to have been living under a rock during the 90's to have escaped that show.
Anyway, Groomy's knot moniker would serve to be rather omniscient, as I later learned. As you may recall, we had already set a wedding date prior to getting "officially" engaged. At this point, I could go on a tangent about what it means to be engaged (is it merely an intent to marry? Does the ring matter?), but let's focus here, people. We weren't engaged, per se.
We had shopped for rings, eyeballed stones, obsessed over settings, purchased wedding magazines, priced venues, and pondered photographers, but my left hand was empty. Needless to say, I was antsy. I knew it was coming, but I wanted it nooooooooooow. Yes, I'm a whiner. I know you're thinking it's a wonder I got anyone to marry me.
However, that Friday I wasn't whining. Secure in the knowledge that we'd be trotting down the aisle approximately one year and one week from then, I grabbed one of those unholy 300-page dress extravaganza magazines, and skipped out (ok, drove) to our traditional Friday chain Mexican meal with two of my best girlfriends.
While Groomy worked late (not an unusual occurrence), we mocked the gaudy dresses and the models' terrible posture, all the while gorging ourselves on three courses of inauthentic Central American deliciousness. I should mention here that we told very few people about our wedding plans B.R. (Before Ring). The two girlfriends I was with that night (McMaidersons J and R) were totally stoked, but the "oh, honey no" reactions I got from a few other friends were pretty funny. I guess they thought Groomy wouldn't pony up the jewels and I'd be planning a wedding doomed to never happen. But, we're in the clear on that one!
When it was time to part ways, I hopped into my truck, feeling kind of like the button on my jeans was going to pop off and take out the windshield. I was kind of hoping Groomy wouldn't be home when I got there, because I didn't feel so good. Unfortunately, on my drive home, Groomy called me from there and asked where I was relative to the apartment. I told him, and we continued chatting about wedding stuff. He proceeded to ask for my location two move times in my 20 minute drive. Okay, Stalker...but Groomy just reassured me that he missed me. And I bought it, 'cause he's a sweetie like that.
On my way to the apartment from the car, it occurred to me that he might be planning a proposal, but I dismissed that thought immediately as I remembered that our apartment was a mess, and he would've had to clean. Ha! I don't know why I equated proposal with clean apartment.
When I opened the door, I found the apartment not only clean, but filled with candles and rose petals, with Groomy on one knee, holding a ring box.
No wonder he wanted to know where I was - the floor is hard and it's really uncomfortable. This is why, after letting out a little yelp and backing out of the apartment momentarily, the first thing I said was "Get up off the floor!" Ever the gentlemen, he refused, and asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes, and then tried to hug and kiss him, like newly engaged couples do. But he kept shoving the darn ring box between us. Oh, yeah, I guess I'm supposed to put that on!
And that's how we got here, my little Chanandler and I.*
*While writing this post, I found out that the episode with the proposal is actually called "The One With The Proposal", so be sure to knock off some points for originality there.
Picture it: New Jersey, 2006. A young lawyer sits in a dreary office, conversing collegially with a collegaue over the office's instant messaging system. "What are you doing this weekend?" the colleague asks. "Oh, busty as usual." she replies, typing absentmindedly. Umm, NO. That would be "BUSY as usual." Oops. That's an easy way to get called into HR. Thankfully, my error was quickly remedied and the misunderstanding was cleared up.
What do my terrible typing skills have to do with wedding planning? Well, "the girls" are a very important component of a bride's wedding day ensemble. The dress, gorgeous as it may be, can only sit on the foundation you provide, and the right garments are key. Today, we'll talk about the top half.
I've seen a few blog posts about the various bra options available - strapless, longline strapless, convertible, corset, and the good old strapless-and-spanx combo. I won't bore you with that. However, I haven't seen many bloggers address the most important aspect of this whole underthing debacle- getting the right size for your girls.
As many that have come before me, I meandered into Victoria's Secret in high school, had them measure me and proceeded to wear the same size bra for the next decade, occasionally adjusting up or down slightly in band size to account for weight gain or loss. Epic Fail. Not to badmouth Vickie's, but their measurement techniques aren't exactly on the cutting edge. Recent research (read: my Googling) has indicated that there is no universally accepted bra-measuring technique.
A few weeks ago, a lingerie obsessed friend convinced me to visit a specialty shop for a bra fitting. Apparently, specialty shops will fit you with several types of bras (everyday, special occasion, sports bras) and will even alter your bras and swimsuits. And, who couldn't use a little help with the almighty bathing suit?
While the experience of disrobing in front of a total stranger wasn't exactly what sprung to mind when I agreed to brunch that morning, it was eye-opening. It turns out that I've been wearing a band 2 or 3 sizes too big, and I've been wearing it entirely too high on my back. This is why my straps are always falling down and I can't seem to shake that little pouch of "back fat" under my shoulder blade no matter how much I work out. Imagine that - my bra was making me look fat! Finally, I could blame something other than my poor eating habits! See how it was totally worth letting some random chick take off my bra?
I walked out feeling feminine, confident, and slightly broke. While the bras were not cheap, they weren't much more than the more popular bras peddled by our old friend Vickie. The sticker shock subsided once I remembered that I'd paid about $50 for the stretched out, poorly-sized bra hanging limply behind me during my fitting.
One side effect I didn't anticipate was that the right bra vastly improved my posture. I'm certainly not the first bride with suchconcerns, and I figured the road to better posture would be paved by my trainer and possibly some yoga classes (I'll be blogging about that, too). I was pleasantly surprised at the effect of having everything on the upper body sitting where it was supposed to be. I am walking taller (an amazing feat for someone my height) and I think I look slimmer overall. Score!
So, fess up. Have you been wearing the same bra size since high school?
You know that part in Clueless where Cher looks over at Tai in her state of utter fashion and social devastation and does a tiny little jig while squealing "Prooooject!!"? Well, that's how I approach just about everything in life. For example, we're moving into a new apartment next week, and it's already decorated. In my head. With furniture, textiles and decor I purchased in advance and made Groomy lug to our storage unit. Yes, I have a problem.
Sometimes, my obsessiveness is actually an asset. We are way ahead of our Knot timeline in terms of vendors booked, and we've definitely started thinking details ahead of time so that we're not all flustered and panicky the month before.
I read a lot of wedding blogs (shocker, I know!), and many of them stress the importance of communicating the "feel" or "vision" of your wedding to your vendors. I think this is crucial in the early stages, when you are choosing your vendors, so that you can find someone who really gets what you're after, but I think it is even more important when you get further along in your planning. Have you clued your vendors in to how your vision has morphed and the decisions you've made during the planning phases? Sure, you may have told your photographer that you've decided to do a "first look" before the ceremony, but did you let your officiant know that, too? It doesn't seem like something all the vendors would need to know, but taking photos beforehand may make you more relaxed during the ceremony, and may free you up for more of the cocktail hour, which is something your maitre'd may need to know, et cetera. It's kind of a chain reaction.
This is why my obsessive self is putting together kind of a "fact sheet" for all the major vendors. It will be a summary of all the important logistical points:
Entire day-of timeline, including when other vendors will be setting up/arriving
Close family members names and photos (I plan on pasting them into the word document as an "object")
Any special situations - mother of the groom isn't speaking to Aunt Wilma because of a crushing canasta victory? You may think these things are silly or embarrassing, but people like your photographer, videographer, band leader, and DJ may need to know before they pair them up for that important photo or "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" duet. similarly, any special needs or physical limitations of guests of family members may be important.
Plus, I'll include information about the way we envision parts of the event - we'd like the dinner hour to be fairly quiet, we predict we'll spend much of the first course doing table visits, we're hoping for an ethereal feel to the ballroom. Remember, you have many vendors working simultaneously, so while you may have remembered to tell the DJ you want a quiet dinner hour, this will be for naught when your videographer decides it's time to loudly announce Testimonial Time in the corner. Not that our wonderful videographer would do this, but you get my idea.
Sadly, this document will not be a replacement for more vendor specific information (obsessive planning doesn't let you off that easily!), so you'll still have to provide the DJ with the do-not-play list (and the please-play, the must-play, and the do-not-play-if-you-value-your-appendages lists), the photographer with any special shots, and the maitre'd with a list of the hors d’oeuvres you want brought to the bridal suite (do this!!!). But it's a great way to round everything up and make sure all your vendors are on the same page, and I'm hoping it will save us a lot of communication headaches.
If I had a wedding planner, I imagine that is one of the first questions she would ask me. However, because I don't have one, I ask myself. Several times a week, because it's hard to put my finger on it. Right now, I'd love for it to look like this:
Great! Except that's someone's dresser, not an event space, Genius! These days, there's a lot of that running through my head. I know what I don't want: I don't want our reception hall to look like a "reception hall", I don't want the wedding to look canned or like The Knot threw up all over the room, and I don't want it to look like I climbed on the bandwagon of every trend out there just so I could look like I spent a lot of money or did a lot of projects "just because".
What I'd like is clean and modern, with a touch of vintage and nature. I want the soft glow of candlelight, and the interplay of our colors against the backdrop of nature provided by our reception hall's awesome view:
The problem is that it's all running around in my head, all non-descript and abstract-y. This didn't really bother me before, as the wedding was a distant future event. However, we're rapidly approaching the 7 month mark, and, according to traditional wisdom, that means I should sort of start nailing things down.
So, how did you envision your wedding and how has that changed over time? More importantly, how did you keep it from looking like a dresser?
We're about 7 months away, and while many brides are only starting to consider the name question, I've been down that road and back! What did I decide? I'm going to be Mrs. McGroomerson. "Gee, how, umm...traditional," say the feminists. "What made you decide to give up your name?"
Now, I consider myself very much a feminist, so this post is not at stab at them, or anyone, for that matter. Keeping my name (I hate the phrase "maiden name"), taking Groomy's without qualification, hyphenating, and adding his name to mine were all options from the start, and I believe that you should do whatever works for you. Some people assumed that, because I chose to take my fiance's name, I just blindly followed tradition, without any consideration. Thinking that way is a mistake, and I caution everyone not to make snap judgments about a person's values based on how they choose their name after marriage. My decision was complicated and had nothing to do with tradition.
I love my name. It has a lyrical beauty, in my humble, unbiased opinion. I also love it because I chose it. About 3 years ago, I decided to change my last name to honor the family that raised me - my grandparents. While I was at it, I took my late grandmother's first name as a middle name, as I was not given one at birth. so I went from Bridey McRandom to Bridey Grammy McBriderson. (I promise, if you knew my real name, it would sound much more lyrical!) And I use "Grammy" on everything - email, business cards, publications - everything. I am like Sarah Michelle Gellar with the three names.
As a side note, I thought about changing my first name to McLovin, but two "Mc"s in one name was too much.
As you can see, the typical bridal name change calculus was complicated for me by the significance of my names and my desire to keep my middle name as one for "everyday" use. Certainly, Bridey Grammy McBriderson McGroomerson was too many names, and Bridey Grammy McBriderson-McGroomerson was just too cumbersome. And both had too many "Mc"s, obviously. So why didn't I just tell Groomy to keep his dirty man-name away from my lyrical beauty?
Well, you see, it was really, really important to him that we share a last name. Of course, my initial reply to that was that, if it was so important, he could take McBriderson. This was, of course, delivered with touch of a growl and a swift turn on my heel. I'm nothing if not dramatic. Thing is, it is really important to me that we share a name, too. I grew up with a different last name than my family and it really bothered me. I didn't want that trend to continue into adulthood and I didn't want our children to have a different name. All that could've been accomplished by either (a) Groomy taking my name, (b) us both hyphenating, or (c) me taking McGroomerson. Option (a) didn't sit well with Groomy, despite all my arguments (if you'd like a sample, request it in the comments - I'm damn convincing), and (b) didn't work for me because the hyphenated name is too long to also include my beloved Grammy. So, it was (c), by process of elimination.
It made it easier that I'm not concerned about losing my professional identity, as many brides are. The name combo Bridey Grammy is pretty unusual, so if people were vexed by the last name, they'd probably still "get" that it was me. Also, Groomy and I work in the same specialty, and his actual last name is terribly unique, so people would easily be able to put two and two together. Plus, he's really good at what he does, so associating with him can only help me!
As long as we're being honest, I should admit that the decision wasn't entirely logical. The idea of me taking his name made Groomy really happy. This is a man who makes me happier than I've ever been just by existing, and who goes out of his way to make sure I'm comfortable, entertains my unreasonable demands for far-flung fast food when I'm sick, and swelters in the car just so my nose isn't cold. It makes me happy to make him happy in this way. Plus, I'm proud to become a McGroomerson. They're good people.
What are you doing with your moniker, post-nuptials? Was it an easy decision or a more drawn-out journey?
I recently entered a contest to win free event design services from a local firm. The contest asked for entries telling your love story and what makes you unique as a couple. Apparently, the idea of two bankruptcy attorneys who love to dance the cat around to Taylor Swift songs where all the key lyrics are replaced with the cat's name isn't as compelling and romantic as I thought, because we didn't win. However, it inspired me to tell our story on the blog.
What, doesn't he look like Romeo? [personal photo]
Anyway, the story of how Groomy and I met is pretty mundane: he interviewed me for a job. There were no sparks flying, no googly eyes, and certainly no bow-chicka-wow music in the background. We chatted about work stuff, and I remember thinking he seemed like a nice guy (with a weird name - a weird name that will soon be MY name!).
However, despite the tame nature of our first meeting, I think it was fate that we met when we did. You see, I was set to marry another guy, with whom I had a serviceable, perfectly unremarkable relationship. I accepted it readily, as I never believed in fate or soul mates - I was the classic pragmatist and fancied myself too intellectual for such things. I didn't think I was settling - I thought that life and my relationship was as good as it gets. I was so very very wrong.
After starting that new job (and, relax, Groomy wasn't the only person who had to approve my hiring!), I sat down to chat with one of my new coworkers at a work event...and didn't move from my chair for 6 hours. Long after the group had left and the restaurant was closing, we were still talking...about politics, values, culture, friends, music, literature, and everything else under the sun. The next morning, I woke up, and I knew my life had changed completely and for good.
The story of how we fell in love is quite simple, but the way we fit together continues to amaze me. I never thought I'd meet someone who shared my values and my quirks, down to my love of vintage Simpsons and On the Border chips and salsa. We finish each other's sentences, but instead of words, it's often geeky noises (like Nelson's haha or the sad trombone). We have often remarked that we didn't think it was possible that a person like the other actually existed. I feel like the luckiest person on earth that I've met my true match.
So, when Groomy asked me to marry him (another story entirely), it was more of a collaboration than anything else. As classic type-As, we had already worked out many of the basics and all that was left at that stage was the ring. Many people relish in the theatrics of a big proposal, but ours was private, sweet, and more of a way to wrap up what we had begun together, as a team. When we discussed the possible anti-climatic effect of a proposal after the wedding date was already set, he summed things up perfectly: "How could you ever be surprised, anyway? You've known this was coming since our first date!" Actually, I think I knew even before that...
What led you to your soulmate? Was it a series of twists and turns or something more straightforward?
Every day when I log on to Facebook, the nifty little ad bar on the side tells me that I need to lose weight for my wedding - there's always some ad titled "Bridal Weight Loss" or similar. Gee, thanks. I thought I looked ok in my dress! I feel like there's a lot of pressure to look a certain way on your wedding day, and people have actually asked me if I am on a diet right after I've told them I'm engaged. Charming.
The fact is, I had my eye on losing weight and getting fit for a while pre-proposal. However, I didn't want to be the bride who breaks down after the wedding, shouting about how she hasn't eaten a real meal or a carb in over a year. That's way less attractive than a few extra pounds.
I'm against becoming the thinnest you've ever been or will ever be just for the wedding. Why? Well, it's torture getting there, so you spend your engagement obsessing over every calorie of cheesy deliciousness every time you want to hit up Taco Bell. That makes me cranky. Also, I've known more than one woman that came back from her honeymoon 10 pounds heavier and feeling lousy and uncomfortable in her clothes because she finally broke down and had a slice of pizza. You should never be so unnaturally thin that relaxing for a week and enjoying yourself makes you immediately put on that kind of weight! It's not kind to your body. And trust me, you looked way better when you were healthy and smiling, instead of sneering and growling because you think the guy at Subway used full-fat mayo on your Veggie Delight.
This is why, starting this past July, I became a card-carrying Weight Watchers member. After losing 15 of the 30 pounds I set out to lose by following a reasonable diet that allowed me to eat chain restaurant Mexican food at least once a week, I joined a gym and started working with a personal trainer. That was almost 3 months ago. Now I'm just 10 pounds away from my goal and feel better than I have in years. I've got, like, biceps, and I think I spy a wee bit of abdominal muscle peeking out from behind all the chips and salsa. Plus, all my clothes are falling off me (sexy).
So, you're thinking, "Great. This hypocrite just told us all how terrible it is to starve ourselves for the wedding, and then starts blathering on about diets, personal trainers, and losing thirty pounds. Umm, okay, Kate Moss, go sit in a corner, eat some celery, and write some Facebook ads."
The important part of my story is this: I wanted to lose thirty pounds because I had ballooned up significantly, and losing 30 pounds would put me comfortably at 10 pounds over my lowest weight. I feel that this is a weight I can maintain, a weight that is healthy, and a weight where I'll look like ME. Not a crazed, wild-eyed, bobble-headed version of myself, cranky because I didn't manage to lose the last 8 pounds before the wedding so I could fit into my middle-school prepubescent cheerleading uniform*, but a beautiful, healthy, 30-year old bride.
So please, ladies, don't let Facebook get to you. It's a liar. It told me that I was Kelly Taylor in the "What 90210 Character are You?" quiz, and we all know I'm Andrea. Suck it, Facebook.
*Disclaimer: I was not a cheerleader, ever, but I'm sure some of y'all were and would've made fun of my uncoordinated 11 year old self.
Details, details, details...the stuff that wedding blogs are made of! Few brides miss these glorious opportunities to turn paper into noteworthy style. I count myself among the detail-obsessed, and perhaps not for the better.
Envelopes. You need 'em to mail things. Insert item. Lick. Seal. Address. Stamp. Release. Simple, right? Hardly.
After receiving our lovely Save the Dates, I became obsessed with their presentation. You may remember them from my earlier post, but here they are again:
The portion with the date and name information is a magnet that peels off the card. Awesome, huh?
Originally these came in ivory envelopes. Our plan was to run them through our handy-dandy home printer, and throw on some stamps I'd created at zazzle with our monogram. Then, I hit the blogs. With all the creative STDs out there, I started thinking ours were, well...ordinary.
They will make our envelopes really stand out! So, I asked the lovely Jessica to make some for us, and they were awesome. I set to assembling them for mailing.
But, something was bugging me. The labels had an ivory background, like the envelopes. The stamp, however, had a white background. D'oh! Ok, so let's nix the stamps. I know, let's use a photo stamp instead! Those are so popular and cute. So, I spent more hours than I care to admit perfectly centering our photo on a zazzle stamp and sending links to Mr. McBriderson. Sometime during that period, I decided that I HAD to have colored envelopes. Why? There is no rhyme or reason, my dears.
So, here we are, photo stamp in hand, brown envelopes delivered speedily to my workplace, and we're ready to pull the trigger. Right? Right?? Ummm, no. Sorry. FAIL.
While sitting on the couch in front of Jersey Shore (don't judge)ready to assemble, I tell Mr. McBriderson that I just can't do it. A look of panic crosses his face. The wedding? No, silly, the stamps. They just made the whole thing look too, I don't know, gimmicky...
Behold (the terrible quality that is my phone camera):
It was just too much. The magnet with the colored envelope with the wraparound label with the photostamp. It's like I'd crammed every Save the Date trend into one. Although, I should've put a photo on the magnet, too, if I really wanted to make that statement true!
So, after careful consideration, we went with a wedding cake stamp. I don't yet have a photo of the finished product as it went out, but it looked good. Classy, even. And thank goodness, because reliving the envelope/stamp debacle as I was writing this was a bit exhausting.
Have you been guilty of over-detailing your wedding?
Oh, Vanessa Williams, you are lovely on Ugly Betty, but what happened to your singing career? You were my middle school idol...
Ok, this post is not about Vanessa Williams (Sorry, V. Wills!). Someone recently asked me to explain how I chose my wedding colors (purple and brown, with touches of platinum). When I sent off a crazy detailed email, much like the list below, she recommended I start a blog. Well, gee, I've actually got one of them thar bloggy-thingys! I just gave it up because I lost confidence in myself .
Now that I've been inspired to pick blogging back up, let's talk about colors. Early on in my engagement, I got an email from a friend of Mr. McBriderson, congratulating us and asking me what my colors were. She said that this was the one question she was asked most during wedding planning, and I should have a ready answer (that wasn't "blush and bashful", unless those were, indeed, my colors). Thus, I set out to choose colors, with Groomy and a large stack of wedding magazines by my side. Ironically, we would up choosing the colors of our living room decor. Imaginative, I know. BUT, we had a process, I swear, which I am now going to share with you! Ask:
- what color combinations make you "swoon?"For me, in the beginning, I loved the way gray/platinum looked with magenta. Specifically, gray dresses with magenta shoes. Unfortunately, the "vibe" of our venue wound up being more nature-oriented and less art-deco, plus this would've required either dyables or some fierce kate spades for the bridesmaids. I prefer to let them pick their own shoes in a specific color family.
- what kind of "mood" are you looking to evoke? For a natural aura, green and brown are great. Grey and magenta are modern, black and white can be oh-so-glam. Some brides love art-deco, some love vintage, etc. You should look for a look that speaks to your personality.
- do the colors you like translate into a dress you could ask another human being to wear? This is a no-brainer. If you wouldn't wear it, please don't make someone else!
- will you be able to get flowers in any of your chosen colors in the month of your wedding?And,do you actually like those flowers? Example - cala lillies come in an awesome dark purple in my season, but me no likey one bit. I needed to make sure there were alternatives.
- do these colors clash with any of the static features of the venue - walls, carpet, curtains? I dismissed a great venue because the walls were red - I would've been locked into a small palette, and one that didn't appeal to me. Likewise, black and white wouldn't work in my actual venue - the carpets are tan and green. That's why brown is my dark base color instead of black, and why I dismissed a pink and black color scheme (other than Groomy's vehement protests).
- matching - is the color you like hard to match or hard to find? I had a hard time finding a BM dress line that came in a nice purple, believe it or not. Likewise, I am using several shades of purple and lavender, so that not everything needs to match exactly. Otherwise, you can drive yourself crazy.
- finally, pick a metallic - preferably gold or silver, based on what's already in the venue and what goes with your colors. You will have to pick one at one time or another - shoes, jewels, chargers, silver, picture frames for table #s, placecard holders, guest book pens, etc. It always seems to come up, and having a cohesive look with the details will contribute a lot to the overall look of the event.
