Not part of the plan

Hi! Thanks so much for coming to our wedding!

Oh, you like my dress? Why thank you! I love it too.

Oh, the bandage, not the dress? Of course!

It's actually 3M brand, not Johnson & Johnson.

I know, can you believe it? Such a value. And I almost didn't even get to wear one! But luckily just a few days before our wedding, our cat Fanny freaked out when Trevor let out the biggest sneeze I've heard since the ones my dad used to scare the neighbors with in the garage. Thank goodness I was holding her at the time so I could receive a four-inch scratch across my chest!

Yeah, doesn't it really pop with the white dress? I'm so glad we're having a beach wedding so I can really show it off, too. I'm so lucky! Thanks for noticing!

$500 punch station FAIL

As great as many, many elements of putting together our wedding have been for us (I mean helloooo, our amazing invitations!), I've gotta be honest: I can see exactly why so many people get so pissed off at the wedding industry. Here's what Adams-Hanger '09 is getting increasingly resentful about these days: simple requests to our wedding venue that produce an absurdly laughable result. Enter: ceremony refreshments.

Because we're starting our ceremony a bit later than guests think it's going to start, we'd planned to have simple music and refreshments available so that everyone can mingle and be lively while they wait, rather than staying seated and wondering if the two of us ran off somewhere (only with each other, of course). A punch station seemed like a great, cute way to do this. Three glass canisters with a different type of beverage in each: water with fruit, lemonade, and a standard fruit punch. Cute signage on the canisters. No alcohol involved. Self-serve, even. The price quoted back to us? $500.

$500 for a punch station. Really.

There are three directions to go here, seems to me. One is to shrug it off and tack it onto the bill - honestly, I think most people probably do this, or the venue wouldn't be so cavalier about the price. I am not one of those people. One is to bitchily latch onto the $500 punch station as representing the greedy underbelly of the entire wedding industry, and perhaps vent about it on blog posts. Another is to tell the venue rep (who my mom loves and the F-Word routinely wants to strangle, interestingly) that it's a ridiculous price and therefore a no-go and to move on. I guess I'm doing both of the last two - I told her no already, but instead of moving on, I can't stop getting pissed about it.

Getting married in the remote area of my choosing means that our options for venues were severely limited compared with most any other place in the country. We really do love our venue, though, and chose it because of how easily it can accommodate our whole crowd in one place for an entire weekend - no driving between locations, no getting lost, etc. But going with this venue also meant we were beholden to them for all food and beverages. I don't think I fully realized at the time we signed on just how big a deal that is. Frankly, food and beverage is the part of our expense spreadsheet that keeps us up at night.

We have gorgeous invitations bursting with our personalities, we have a weekend full of events that will bring together our favorite people, we have saying 'I Do' at the end of it all and not looking back... those are fantastic things. The $500 punch station, though? It makes me want to punch someone. Not very "bridal" of me, I know.

Local self esteem boosters unite!

Okay, so the dress fitting just got postponed for thirty minutes, which is maybe kinda sorta fate (if I believed in that... to be continued...) saying I needed the extra time at my office for the following two things to occur:

• I got the nicest note ever from Jaydee at An Accidental Texan about my dress fitting post. Then, she followed up with a post of her own. Can emotionally healthy women in this state who are not size zero and don't want to be size zero please raise your hands?! Love it! Jaydee, you have a new reader. (And many, I hope... go read Jaydee!)
  
  
• I got an e-mail from Kate reminding me that since she can see the store I'm going to from her office, she could meet me for my fitting and be ready to "backhand Frenchie if she speaks one negative syllable!" To which I tried to protest that since she's getting married on Saturday she probably shouldn't leave work because she has so much to do and (wait - seriously? why would I not want a fellow sane person with me in the salon of snobbiness?!)... Anyway, cut to me coming to my senses and Kate replying that she will be there "with Bitch Bells on!" And she is my hero.

To be continued....

UPDATE: Victory! Everyone was on their best behavior, probably because Amazon Goddess Kate was sending subconscious threats from up above. I even managed to schedule the next fitting for when Heather the Bridesmaid is in town... woo hoo! And now I'm laid back watching Disc 3: Gowns from the 4-DVD Martha Stewart Weddings collection while the F-Word is passed out from his medicated back condition next to me. Fun for all!

Ego and the Evil Empire: Final Chapter

As I have written about before, I did not have a happy wedding dress-shopping experience. At this very moment, my dress is in my car in the basement parking garage of my office, where there is routine flooding and leaking, and it's raining today. You might think that would be make me feel jumpy, but it's actually nothing compared to the uneasiness I have about going in for my first dress fitting this afternoon.

First things first: the dress fits beautifully. All that needs to be done is hemming in two places and perhaps creating a tiny bustle. I'm not worried about the mechanics of it. I'm not even very worried about the cost of said alterations anymore, although at one point I was so pissed about the continued rip-off-ness that is anything with the word "wedding" attached to it, I considered going elsewhere. A few smart warnings and the enticement of the store shipping the finished dress to NC for me, thus preventing the need to travel with it, changed my mind. So no, the price isn't even what has me so jumpy today.

The problem goes back to where we started with this whole shopping experience: this town, this and other stores, and the people I'll be hanging out with in my underwear later today (save for one, but I fear the fact that since she lost her job and is coming back only for our appointment, her mood won't be top-notch). The entire experience has from the beginning made me feel crappy about myself, and I'm dreading my return trip. (Unfortunately, my sidekick is otherwise engaged being six and a half months pregnant right now, so unavailable for "biatch alert.") I'm not sure if my terrible dress-shopping experiences say more about Dallas (a vanity-obsessed skinnytown), or my bad luck running into awful people, or my bad choices about where I went shopping in the first place, but my normal, confident self knows all of these things for a fact:

• I am not "too broad" to wear wedding dresses, as I've been told by the people trying to sell me wedding dresses
  
• I do not have "very large" hips (imagine that said in a condescending Parisian accent, FYI), but even if I did, screw them!
  
• I actually look great in the dress that I chose, and when I try it on in my own environment, I feel fantastic in it
  
• Women of all shapes and sizes deserve to have a dress-shopping experience that makes them feel great about themselves
• Places that make potential customers feel bad about themselves do not deserve their money
• I am smarter than to put up with so much attitude

And yet...

Here I am, sitting in my office surrounded by items of professional accomplishment and tokens that are important to me: photos of loved ones, snippets of my published past, my "I Like the Smell of Newsprint in the Morning" coffee mug, some outrageously fun new "campaign stickers" for the wedding, and my general air of confident, optimistic calm. But all I can think about is how I'm going to strategize undressing and putting on the gown alone in order to prevent a snarky size comment from the seamstress again, or how I should've worked out yesterday, or how maybe I should rethink my nixing of Spanx, and blahblahblah. Frankly, it's embarrassing. I am smarter and more confident than this. Two months out from our wedding, I don't want to put up with second-guessing and passive-agressive comments that subtly recommend a brief eating disorder as I aerobicize my way to May 24.

Really, can't they be just a little bit nicer and give me a break? Just this once?

Hot shoe FAIL

As we all know, I love shoes. Having a much-taller F-Word necessitates the need for tall shoes, and let's face it, hot shoes are our legs' best friends.

So you might guess I'd be a fan of the latest shoe-related fad. As such, these shoe, er, accessories have been sweeping girly wedding blog nation lately.


My verdict?


I'm sorry, but NO.


That is all.

I don't care about rings, really

Yesterday I dropped off my engagement ring to the custom jeweler who made it so that he can craft a matching wedding band. I started getting jumpy and weird the minute I handed it over. It's so strange how an embarrassing attachment to a material object can creep up on you like that. One day you scoff at the notion that a ring matters at all and refuse to accompany your desperate would-be fiancé on a ring-shopping trip, and then suddenly you're begging for details as he's given up on buying something ready-made and has begun creating it from scratch, and then before you know it you feel absolutely naked when the final product's not on your finger. I might as well wear a scarlet L for "lame" across my chest. Seriously.

Since the notion of leaving my finger naked and lifeless for a solid week was out of the question, being sans e-ring has provided me the opportunity to reacquaint myself with the family ring I wore on my right hand for years and years. It's a 1930s filigree ring that I really love, and I truly have missed it. Wearing rings on both hands felt like too much to me, so it's been hiding out in the jewelry box since June. It's doing a stand-up job as a fill-in on my left hand. But while the vintage ring and my finger may be relieved, the rest of me remains embarrassed.

Not My Dress: Amsale (with bonus rant)

In another case of bridal models making dresses look icky, but real women filling them out beautifully, I offer Amsale.

Scary robot model:

























Gorgeous real bride (via Snippet & Ink), with an absolutely lovely wedding and the same Amsale gown that is perfect on her:

















As we can see now, this dress is really beautiful. (But Not My Dress!)

You know, there are countless examples of really unappealing modeling in the bridal world. One line I love uses the most sickly, prepubescent model I've ever seen in its advertisements. Why? Is that a look I'd want for my wedding day? Absolutely not. In fact, I've already achieved that look - when I came home from school sick with the flu as a 14-year-old.

Let's play The Wedding Gown Advertisement Drinking Game:

Directions: Take a look through any bridal magazine and peek at the gown ads. Take one shot every time you see:

• A bride frowning
• A bride contorting her upper back in an awkward "high fashion" pose
• A bride looking like she's about to throw up
• A bride who no one thinks will actually make it down the aisle
  
• A bride with washed-out skin and the always-fetching nude, chapped lip
• A bride with insane, just-ran-through-the-forest-in-a-windstorm hair
  
• A bride surrounded by hilariously slutty-looking bridesmaids, who look like they hate each other
  
• A bride lounging provocatively in a car near an attractive man who is most definitely not the groom
• A bride who has clearly just fled the scene with an usher or waiter
• A bride living out her fairytale fantasy with the hugest, most heinous dress you can imagine (Sidenote: These ad campaigns, usually lower-end than the rest I've listed, tend to use models that look far older than their couture counterparts. Also, tons of eye makeup. Hmmm....)

What am I missing? Does it really matter? Because I think we all know that on this Wednesday morning, we would be wasted if we were actually playing.

Notes on flower girl dress shopping

1. I simply cannot justify spending $250 on a flower girl dress, no matter how adorable it is. Sorry.

2. When searching for flower girl dresses, you inevitably end up on pageant dress websites, and they are terrifying. Little girls painted up and dressed to look like trashy teens will always horrify me.

3. Now there is a market for "plus size" flower girl dresses? Please, America, step away from the fast food.

Three quickies

1. My latest favorite wedding is Brooke + Thor's gig courtesy of (shocker!) Southern Weddings. Seersucker is involved, and some awesome typography. I have a big-time crush on Brooke, too. Read their interview to see why.

2. Speaking of crushes, I guess I have to include the violet-eyed, oft-married Elizabeth Taylor now, solely on the strength of this quote: "The problem with people who have no vices is that generally you can be pretty sure they're going to have some pretty annoying virtues."

3. And... UNcrush: All the reasons why I strongly dislike The Knot community came flooding back to me this morning. I was trying to get some local vendor information on the NC message board, and just... UGH. And to the think that I went into this thinking that those women represented most of what was out there when it came to wedding planning. Thank goodness for you lovely bloggers, with all your brains and wit and spunk. I know which team I'm on.

USPS Rant

We keep hearing from more and more folks that they never received our Save the Dates, most of which went out a month ago. So frustrating! I know they were just postcards, which maybe can get lost more easily, but still. I can only imagine how $*%&$* I would be if these were the wedding invitations. What in the world?! I've mailed most of them from my office... I wonder if our mailman hates me? Is offended by bare shoulders? If they're just slipping out of his cart? If they're now lining the crevices of the mail slot? If they're hanging out in the portal with everyone's single socks?

An hour ago, I went to a postal center a block away to mail two packages. Without prompting, the clerk offers this gem: "You know, a good rule of thumb is that if you care about what you're mailing, avoid the US postal service. Ground UPS, then?"

Killing me!!! I don't like to rank on public servants or agencies, but c'mon!!! Has this happened to anyone else?

I'll RSVP 'NO' to that one, thanks

We spent some time yesterday thinking about our forthcoming Papercupp invitations - specifically, what the text should be. We'll ultimately go with something simple ("together with their families") and maybe throw in a creative line or two, but some of the stuff out there had us dying of laughter yesterday. My favorites:

"In the spirit of Christian joy..." (Okay, major disclaimer: We are absolutely unreligious, so anything of this nature is a no.) Such as:

"Love is the most precious flower
in the Father's garden of life
Please join us as we,
BRIDE
and
GROOM
begin our new life together
growing in Christ's love"

Ugh, gag me over your fairy tale imagery:

"Just like a page out of a fairy tale
the storybook romance comes true..."

"Our wedding will be a fairy tale...
a dream without end."

So more casual, then? How about an homage to the VP candidate who can't pronounce her Gs?

"The woo'in and the courtin's done
Our life together has begun."

Okay sure, if you're country western singers or something. But please explain to me what this one means:

"Time has changed so many things
one thousand years of the past
but it never touched the power
of a true love meant to last"

?!?! And hey, we are having a beach wedding...

"A perfect shell is a gift from the sea
as beautiful and unique
as our love is meant to be"

This one's for Mikaela, poet and desert resident:

"Out of wind and prairie dust,
a cactus flower stands:
a tribute to our love so true
are elements it will withstand."

Ha! My ultimate favorite, though, is one that would manage to piss off most anyone who received it:

"Everyone will be green with envy
when they see how happy we are together"

Okay, just one more, because this one truly perplexes me:

We get along so well
that we are getting married
BRIDE
and
GROOM
Come join the celebration
and share in our joy
on DATE
YEAR
at TIME
LOCATION
ADDRESS
CITY, STATE

I mean why not, right? As long as you get along and all.

(All text courtesy of VerseIt, which has some great recommendations along with laughable ones.)

What It's All About

I was going to rant about yet another run-in with an anti-curve wedding industry person - and the ridiculousness of wearing a size 6 skirt while ordering a size 12 wedding dress - but then I read this, and suddenly I didn't feel like bitching any more.

Joy found out she had breast cancer, and decided with her fiancee to fast-track her wedding before her surgery. In two weeks, they found a venue, a photographer, a dress, and pulled the whole thing off with a cherry blossom theme in Washington, D.C. In each case, vendors broke their own rules to make this wedding happen for a couple who simply wanted to celebrate before they faced her health questions. Thankfully, her surgery went well and she's doing fine now. But looking at their photos, I feel terrible complaining about anything, because so often I really think I must be the luckiest person in the world.

I feel the same way when I look at photos of same-sex weddings, coming fast and furious from California. Most of all, I'm struck with the sheer emotion that comes across in their photos, their blatant awe of being inside a moment they were never sure they'd be allowed to have. These are truly celebrations of love, which is what every wedding should be. For me - healthy, allowed to marry as many times as I choose, for whatever reason at all - these weddings of triumph are the ones that set the standard.


Sources: Joy and James. Kim and Annie. Bryan and Robbie.

Dear Bitchy Bridal Boutique,

I'm so sorry I decided to stop in last week. My mistake.

I'm so sorry that as a size 8, I am too "broad" to fit your idea of what a bride is supposed to look like.

I'm so sorry that you typically don't have an issue with your sample sizes fitting girls who walk into your boutique. How uncomfortable for you that I would be the first ever.

I'm so sorry that you had to struggle for ideas about what could possibly be done to make my shoulders look daintier and less "athletic" and, your favorite word again, "broad."

I'm so sorry that you felt the need to stay silent when I tried to explain that since my body is what it is - and my fiancee happens to love it - I should not try to lose my curves before the wedding or find a dress that unnecessarily contained them. That must have been awkward for you.

I'm sorry that as a "broad" girl (wait, make that "soooo broad") with boobs and hips and a butt, you had to bother explaining to me that my "choices are very limited" in the world of wedding gowns. I should have known that already.

And you know, I'm so sorry that I'm even bothering having a wedding anyway. It's pathetic, isn't it? Should someone as "broad" as me even try to look like a bride?

Finally, I'm oh so sorry that you had to waste your time helping me when there are legions of worthy brides in Dallas, TX who fit into all of your dresses perfectly. Since the sample sizes "are usually too big, not too small," please know I will not bother you again with my broadness.

One other thing, bitchy bridal store: I hate you. I'm really sorry for you that you are unable to see past something as arbitrary as a person's size in order to outfit all shapes and body types in your store. Not only are you missing out on most of womankind as customers, you're also missing out on the variety, fun, and surprise that life can offer. You will die an early death because of your small (not "broad"), clouded vision, mark my words.

Sincerely,
"Broad Bride," temporarily in Dallas, TX