Bridezillas

We've all seen or heard about those brides who approach their weddings as if it were a competitive sport. I heard they might be considering it for the next summer olympics. It will be similar to track and field, with multiple events: wrestling over the same dress, the bridesmaid intimidation, high pitched shrieking, and the daunting impossible demands. I read enough Dear Prudence and watch enough reality TV trailers to know that there are some women who just go completely off the rails when it comes to getting hitched. Reading some of the letters from battered maids of honor, former friends, even exasperated fiances, it makes me wonder what kind of a society we've become where anyone thinks it's acceptable to act like a self-centered, spoiled rotten two-year-old just because you've decided to spend the rest of your life with someone who hopefully still wants to spend his with you, after the way you've been behaving.

There are enough of these ridiculous bride banshees to warrant an entire section on the Huffington Post, with articles entitled "How to Keep Bridezilla in a Cage" and "The Worst Bride Meltdowns Ever." One of the articles featured a bride who was apparently dissatisfied with the sum she received as a gift from a wedding guest. Read it here:

Ungrateful Bride Sends Heinous Message to Wedding Guest

I hope that I have been a low(er) key bride for the most part. While I can understand that planning a wedding can be a complex and stressful affair and that the occasional high pitched shriek might be in order, one must resist the urge to go postal. Save that for the marriage!

The Shoe Must Go On

I do believe the shoe situation has been resolved. The funny thing is, I've had them all along. Last year (or was it two years ago? I can't remember anymore) I had the ambitious idea of making an ostentatious outfit for New Year's Eve. It was going to involve spandex, and gold lame', and some leopard print, and was all going to be perfectly fabulous. Of course, the outfit never got made. The leopard fabric is still sitting on a shelf in my sewing room, another great idea chucked into the abyss of I'll Get Around To It.

During the development of this project, I happened across a fabulous pair of shoes at Savers, my most favorite secondhand retail establishment. They were vintage, they were loud, they were glittery, they were silver and gold, they were everything you want a New Year's Eve experience to be, a shoe-in, so to speak. Sadly, they were a half-size too large. I figured I could suffer through one night for fabulosity. Tragically, they had no outfit to complete. So they likewise sat on a shelf in my closet, awaiting their big break.

After days, weeks, months of scouring department and specialty stores across the state, I was still empty-footed. Then the seed of an idea planted itself. What if...? Could they really...? No harm in trying.

They were still a half size too large. Not that I had expected my feet to grow in a year's time, but stranger things have happened. So I fiddled and figured, and decided to try a creative approach. My mother found some inserts for both sole and heel, and with that combination and a pinch of desperation, the shoes became THE SHOES. Silver and gold to give a touch of Jazz Age, a solid heel to stand up to garden paths, and finally the New Year's That Wasn't turns into the Wedding That Will Be. Ladies and gentlemen, I have found my sole mates.

The Family Jewels

I stopped by my aunt's on Sunday for a triple birthday party. Three different birthdays in one month, so they throw one communal shebang for all. While I was there my aunt offered to loan me some of my grandmother's jewelry to use on my wedding day. I don't remember that much about my grandmother. She died when I was six, and my most vivid memories of her are of playing cards, Cinnamon Life cereal and the beautiful dollhouse furniture that she made herself and gave to me. More than my own memories of her, I have heard many stories from my parents and other relatives about her, and have gathered that she was a practical yet adventurous, testy but generous, creative and caring woman who successfully raised my father and his four siblings through wonderful and devastating times. Here's a photo of her with my grandfather:

While some of these stories involved motorcycles, roller skating and historical reenactments, none mention jewelry. As we looked through the assembled necklaces, bracelets and earrings, I wondered where she had worn them, and if they had played a role in any of the stories that had been told to me.

My grandmother died at Christmastime. She had already gotten gifts for the family, and it must have been bittersweet for all that year, opening those gifts and knowing that they were the last ones we’d ever receive from her. As a six year old I didn’t fully understand what was happening, and as my parents gave me my Christmas present from Grandma, they told me that it was a gift from heaven. I unwrapped the china doll with awe, never having received such an offering. Heaven seemed farther away than even the North Pole.

This year would have been my grandmother’s 100th birthday. My aunt arranged an honorary Mass to be said, with a family gathering afterward. It was great to see everyone together, and a touching remembrance of a life. I haven’t decided which pieces I’m going to wear for my wedding, but it’s heartwarming to know that gifts from heaven still appear from time to time, usually just when you need them.

Hairdos and Don'ts

Today Maid of Honor Maili and I went for a test run of our hairstyles. I am lucky to have an aunt who is a professional hairstylist, and who offered to style hair for both of us for the wedding! Especially as I am quite the challenge when it comes to hairdressing. I have fine, thin, do-nothing hair. It's awful. I usually keep it in a short bob, because that's about the only thing you can do with it. But I decided, as this was a special occasion, that I would grow it out a bit to give myself some options. For the past three months I’ve been gritting my teeth against fine, limp, scraggly growing out layers of awful hair. So while I have visions of this kind of thing:

It is very unlikely that anything close to that can be achieved, considering the raw materials.

My aunt has worked miracles with my hair in the past. Several years ago I was invited to a 1940s themed wedding, and she did my hair for that, with results that I didn’t even think were possible:

We arrived at the salon, prepared for experimentation. Round 1:

I had brought my veil, a 20s appropriate birdcage, so that we could see how that would attach. My previous attempts had ended with the veil falling out of my hair and onto the floor. I was pretty sure we could do better than that.

With a lot of love and product, we managed to coax my hair into a somewhat stationary position. I think it might just work.

Maili, on the other hand, had much more hair to work with. My aunt filled her head with rollers, then arranged the curls into a beautiful chignon.

I’ve talked to my seamstress about augmenting the veil a bit, maybe adding some feathers and rosettes, so hopefully I can make up in plumage what I lack in tresses!

One Man Marryin' Band

I've told you the story of how Eric and I met. But I haven't told you about Greg's role in the whole thing. Greg is our beloved karaoke DJ, and Eric's second job boss (as opposed to his day job boss and best man, Brad). Way back in the mists of time, when my best friend Heather and I started living together, we would stop in at a little VFW down the street for some karaoke. The DJ was excellent and an all-around nice guy. We struck up a friendship. Then we also befriended his wife. Then, one crazy night after one too many cranberry seltzers, we found out that she and I are second cousins! And that they had lived next door to my parents! Small world.

Greg is also responsible for introducing us to Maili, the Third Musketeer. She had been going to sing karaoke with Greg a few towns over, and loved his DJing so much that she followed him to our local establishment. It took us about five seconds to become friends, and we get to tell everyone who asks how we met that she picked us up in a bar.

Finally, Greg is really the one responsible for this whole getting married thing. I would never have agreed to date Eric if Greg hadn't vouched for him as a great, honest, stand-up guy. Eric had an entire volume of rules stacked against him: Never date a guy you meet in a bar, DEFINITELY never date a guy you meet in a VFW, Never date a guy who's too young for you, Never date a guy who looks like Harry Potter, Never date a guy who looks like Harry Potter AND dresses like him for Halloween... and many others. However, Greg sat me down one night and told me that I might be missing out on a great thing this time by following my rules. So I listened. And here we are getting married! But if this marriage doesn't work out, then Greg, I'm putting the blame squarely on you for getting me into this mess.

Seeing as Greg was the guy who introduced - nay, orchestrated this entire scenario, we thought it only fitting that he be the one to officially seal the deal. So we asked him to marry us. No, not THAT way. Even Northampton has its limits when it comes to marriage. We asked him to officiate our wedding ceremony. Luckily for us, he accepted our proposal. Unfortunately, in this country the laws have not yet caught up with tradition, and karaoke DJs are not yet given the same privileges as ship captains or clergy when it comes to officiating a marriage ceremony. BUT the tax-loving State of Massachusetts does offer a special one-day dispensation for ordinary folks (and not-so-ordinary karaoke DJs) to become temporary superheroes and marry people. We gave Greg the paperwork, he filled it out, and today in the mail, guess what?

Superhero status attained! Greg will be marrying us on August 17th. And of course, he will also be our DJ. We couldn't possibly have anyone else.

Surrealism and the Modern Wedding

I noticed about five minutes after we got engaged and I visited my first bridal website that wedding themed ads, links and notifications had started creeping into my browser feed. Now they've pretty much taken over. Most of the time it's annoying, sometimes it's a useful link to shoes or stationery, and once in a while it's a link to a hilarious buzzfeed video on the insanity of modern day weddings. Hopefully we've only fallen into a few of these traps.

A Proper Topper

At long last the quest for the perfect tam has come to an end. Eric has found a hat to go with his suit. We stopped into Jackson and Connor in downtown Northampton to see what they had. Eric had found a hat that he liked there before, but it was too small. Although he preferred the larger brimmed hats, the only one they had that fit him, sadly, made him look like a rabbi. (Who knew??) So he opted for a smaller - and, more importantly, cooler - straw number. It is the perfect color, looks great with the suit, and will be much more tolerable if the heat in August is anything near what it is right now. I'm hoping that summer is getting its heat waves out of its system right at the beginning, but we do live in New England, so anything goes.