Oscar edition

Let's have a little Oscar break, shall we? A nice reprieve from the 100-page document sitting on my desk to edit, my pounding need for sinus headache meds, and the upcoming work lunch that I was unable to get out of.

My favorite movie of the year? Milk. No question. It was the most personal for me, the most touching, and in the wake of Prop 8, the most necessary. (Fellow Netflixers who loved Milk, put The Times of Harvey Milk in your queue; you won't be sorry. This documentary is riveting, and you'll appreciate the feature film's use of actual footage even more.) My second-favorite was Frost/Nixon. Do I think either of these will win Best Picture? No. But is this documentary nerd Netflixing the actual interview tapes of Frost and Nixon asap? Yes.

I get pretty worked up about the screenplay awards each year, but the real sideshow for many folks is the fashion. Does it get any more fun than seeing who wears what? On that note, the Costume Design awards are always incredibly interesting. Check out the interviews that Elle did with each of the nominated Costume Designers - they're really fascinating. One of my favorite excerpts, from the Benjamin Button interview:

What was Cate’s favorite look?

Definitely the red dress. I told her, “You have to talk David into this dress because he doesn’t really like red. And she said that David, having never worn a red dress himself, was perhaps not aware of its power.

Well said, Queen Cate.

Oh, and this year's viewing party? My place, with the lovely Kate and Slynnro. We'll probably be getting into trouble somewhere online, so watch out for us....

Hello Sunshine!

It is ridiculously beautiful here today. I am so, so, SO ready for spring and endless sun. This image, courtesy of Desire to Inspire, perfectly sums up my mood, actually.

Bring. It. On.

I know I want to marry T when...

...we are making dinner together.

I used to banish partners from the kitchen. Couldn't deal with the way they took up too much space, got in the way of my movements, were always, magically, exactly in the way. How is that possible, to always be in the wrong place? It was my domain. Get outoutout!

But it's the F-Word's space, too. He's okay playing second fiddle there. He asks me what to chop and what he can do next. More than that, I actually let him help. I've never been good at letting someone help before. He washes greens, sears meat, pours wine, and turns up the music. He doesn't mind that my grand plans of food-shopping and working out all have to happen before we can even begin to cook. He's okay with dinner at 9.

So am I. And I'm okay with him, all up in my space, forever.

The guys (sans bout)

The guys in our wedding aren't wearing boutoinierres boutonierres boutonnieres. Sure, it's traditional to wear them. Sure, wedding blogs are filled with examples of interesting bouts that provide a little more edge to the look. But: guys dislike them and flowers wilt. Floppy wilting flower by night's end = turnoff.

So instead, a dapper pocket square. More T's style, anyway.

So to our favorite groomsmen, who are wearing bouts, thanks but no:















And to President Kennedy, who is demonstrating the F-Word's #1 pet peeve by wearing both a pocket square and a bout, tsk tsk:













Our groomsmen will be sporting a cheerful ensemble of stone chino suit + blue checked shirt + navy linen tie + red dotted pocket square.

Two things:

1. The tie has tons of texture that is apparent in person and not so much in our rushed dusk photograph. It's a great beach tie.
2. We used unmentionables to stand in for pocket squares, so get over that when viewing the photo. And pretend that my hastily Photoshopped white polka dots are real ones. Basically, pretend this is a great pocket square and not wadded-up red underwear.

FingersCrossed/<100 Days edition

I have an accelerated heart rate right now due to some rapid fire wedding-related purchases, so bear with me. As of an hour ago...

• There is another flower girl dress. Since the last one crashed and burned in all its inappropriately glittery glory, I have shied away from all fabrics that have even a hint of sheen and have stayed focused on my original all-cotton mandate. FINGERS CROSSED.
  
  
• We have more fabric drama. I am beyond ready to get past the fabric decision. In fact, I spent last week happily focused on centerpieces and flowers, assuming the fabric was done. Nope - the design we loved (at right) had a printing error and wasn't made with a true white in the background for this batch, and we don't have time to wait for the next batch. So we're trying again with a 6-yard rush order of something else, and a slight change in plan. FINGERS CROSSED.

(I'm trying not to jinx myself by posting the new stuff online, so stay tuned.)

In other planning news, we are under 100 days now, eeeeeek. Just one more reason why the two bullet points above really, really need to be resolved. In other matters:

• The F-Word is taking his grandfather's seersucker suit to a tailor today so that we can finally determine whether or not it will work. There are a few reasons that weren't initially obvious to us why the vintage suit might have to serve as the inspiration rather than his actual wedding suit. But never fear! First, there are lots of seersucker suits available online and in stores. Second, we had a delightful meeting with a custom suitmaker this weekend, and having a custom seersucker suit made is much more affordable than we thought. The custom route intrigues us because (A) Most off-the-rack seersuckers don't have a very modern fit - and our groomsmen suits definitely do. Girls, I'm sure we're all in agreement about flat front pants, yes? (B) They sew your name into the suit or, in this case, your wedding date. Just like someone's wedding dress label. Hmmm... (C) They'll line the suit in whatever you want, including fun patterns like polka dots. Just sayin'....
  
  
• I'm having some angst about wedding dress alterations. Thankfully, I don't need very much done to the dress, but that's also why paying a set (outlandish) price for alterations gives me the hives. I'm searching for an alternative that is cheaper and doesn't involve leaving my dress with someone who makes me wonder if she'll sell it on eBay as soon as I'm back in my car. Also, I wonder if it's silly to worry about alteration costs this late in the game. But then I add up said costs in my head and get the hives again. Thoughts?
  
  
• Our invitations are so close to being done we're talking Pantone colors. Whoopee!!!!
  

97 days to go. That's all I've got right now.

Boldly nude

As we all know, I am a huge fan of bright shoes on brides. I simply cannot get on board with white shoes, ever. But as much of a color fiend as I am, these nude satin pumps are unbelievably pretty, and as dramatic as a boldly colored shoe in a completely different way. They're courtesy of Stuart Weitzman, who finds the sweet spot between hotness and comfort better than any other shoemaker in my closet.







Via The Little White Book.

D'oh!

Just received this e-mail:

Hi there,

Thanks for your custom wedding dress label order! I was working on the design for your label, and see that you have the date as May 24, 2008. I just wanted to double check that you wanted it as 2008, or if you meant 2009. Please let me know, and I will get it entered for you.

Wow.

Happy Valentine's Day!

My card to the F-Word, from one of my favorites, Egg Press:















Our V-Day activity? Wedding bands! I think I know what I want, but who knows what'll happen once I start trying things on. T's a blank slate when it comes to his ring, so this should be fun.

For Valentine's Day, a song that always makes me imagine what it would've been like to fall in love in the farm country of Bertie County, NC, where my family's from. Makes me grin every time.



Have a fantastic day full of love, everyone!

F-Word Friday: Famous Friends and Family

Last week we talked about the tuxedo, and I alluded to the seersucker suit I plan on wearing on the big day. Which is what I had planned on talking about today. That and what the groomsmen are wearing, since we just decided that. It’s going to be a stone khaki suit with a big check gingham-ish blue and white shirt, and a solid linen navy tie with a red pocket square with white dots. They’re going to look goooood.

Which brings us to today’s revised topic: the groomsmen. This is particularly relevant since next weekend is the bachelor party, but also because it allows us to examine a common wedding stereotype. You know how everyone says that the goal of every wedding guest is to make sure you look good but not better than the bride? Well, the same is not true for the groom, which is fine. I assume most grooms get at least a little vain on their wedding day (and I’ll readily admit that my vanity began long before this wedding and will continue afterward), but no groom has any interest at all in upstaging our better half, and I’m no different. But here’s the thing: I have 4 groomsmen, and I run the risk of being the 5th best-looking guy in my own wedding party. I mean, that’s a little awkward, right? Not only that, but they’re all subtly different, so there’s something for just about everyone.

Without further ado…The Groomsmen:

The Brother-in-Law: Let’s kick things off with Maggie’s brother Lane. Classic southern male. Tall, rugged, loves to fish and hunt. Dead ringer for a young Harrison Ford. Has the big pickup truck that he looks born to drive (whereas I, in the same truck, look like Mike Dukakis driving a tank). Big accent. Talks. Real. Slow. Then says in 12 words what I had been trying to say for the last 12 minutes. Loves to drink with the boys, yet is always in the running for World’s Greatest Dad.

The Other Brother-in-Law: Or soon to be. Alex and I were teammates in college. Played the same position. He was an All-American, I was on the bench watching. He’s still playing professional hockey at 32, and has spent the last two years being the most popular foreign athlete in several small European countries. He has a bronze medal from the World Championships. He’s really funny and smart, and he’s impossibly good-looking. Seriously. Think Pierce Brosnan or Dermot Mulroney, only without the metrosexuality. True story: right after college, I was dating a girl in Boston who wasn’t Maggie. So we’re out at a bar with four of her friends, standing in a circle at the bar talking and waiting for some of my friends to come. So in walks Alex, whom these girls have never met. I wave so he can find us at the bar, and the girls turn and see him and go silent, except for some hyperventilating. Then one of them turns to me and says “Wait, you actually know him?!” Oh, and three years ago he started dating my younger sister. They’re getting married next year.

The Rabbi: Travis = not an actual rabbi. Not even Jewish. Not so much religious at all, as far as I know. But “Rabbi” is the term Wall Street uses for mentor, and it fits here perfectly. He’s only four years older than I am but he’s twice as good as I am at the same job, and he casually refers to himself as my Yoda, since every prediction he’s made about my life since the day we met has come true. For example, he told me I’d become nearsighted staring at trading screens all day, and I bragged about my 20-15 vision. Eventually, I had to ask his advice on local lasik surgeons. And after he met Maggie for the first time, he told me I’d be engaged in 9 months. I laughed him right out of the room, and eight months later asked for the phone number to his diamond guy. And if that’s not bad enough, he looks exactly like David Beckham. I mean exactly, right down to the four-too-many tattoos that look dumb on everyone else and uncomfortably cool on him. And he coaches his four-year-old daughter’s soccer team.

The Dean: My father, the Best Man. If I had a dollar for every time a woman met my father and then said to me some variation of “well I certainly see where you get your charm,” I could buy America out of recession. We are alike in almost every way, except he’s older, more seasoned, and has a better tan. Plus, he’s a much MUCH better writer. Not only is he coming to the bachelor party, but I guarantee my friends are more excited to see him than to see me. He’s like the love child of a pre-shotgun Ernest Hemingway and The World’s Most Interesting Man from those Dos Equis commercials.

So there you have it. I couldn’t ask for a better group, even if I’m way over my head standing next to them.

And don’t even get me started on our Master of Ceremonies…

Tulips instead

I can't get over how pretty the pink and white tulips in our living room are. They opened up yesterday, and even through my champagne buzz, I had to stop and ooh and aah over them. Perhaps my excessive oohing and aahing was because of the champagne buzz? At any rate, I still thought they were beyond gorgeous this morning, so it can't be an exaggeration. I'd take pink and white tulips over red roses any day.


For major giggles, go check out this "Valentine's Flowers Decoded" guide courtesy of Design*Sponge. Don't you want to know which bouquet says “Girl I understand that you are exotic and unusual and have needs like a delicate flower. Because I am sensitive. And I know that luxury is important to you. And that is why I spent an obscene amount of money on these. So much in fact, that I have been forced to give up my spot at Treasure Island Self Storage, and that is why you are surrounded by my model car collection.”

You do, don't you?