cheap wedding inspiration

{Q&A} Spaces n’ Snacks

If there’s one detractor to being On The Internet, it’s that we’re a little unable to get together in a giant coffee shop and chat to one another in real-time. Over coffee. And cake.

To some degree, that’s what Twitter is for, I suppose. (Although, between you, me and the wall, the web developer at work told me earlier this week he hates Twitter because it’s like shouting into the void. I almost asked him 1. “… Your friends don’t answer you?” and then, 2. “You’ve never yelled Echo! just to hear the universe echo back?”)

My point is that Twitter is great for call-and-response style Q&A sessions, at least in my experience with it. But. That doesn’t translate very well to questions that have been posed in Comments. And since ignoring people is just plain rude, I’ll do Q&As going forward at the beginning of posts. So, if y’all have questions– hit me with them. I will do my best to make available to you all the knowledge I possess that could be useful (and, let’s be honest, some that isn’t).

All advice given is 100% Quality Assured by Moose.

(…it should be noted that Moose spends most of his days cruising for things to destroy and licking himself, though. Take it for what it’s worth.)

Question #1 today was How do I find an LA venue that won’t make me go broke? Let me tell you something… If I had my way, we’d have gotten married in someone’s backyard. I didn’t even need to know the person– any yard would have done. The cost of venues is just… I think about it, and my brain doubles over and crams its fingers into its ears and winces its eyes shut and starts hollerin’ “NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” Which is why I make the following recommendation: Find a friend with a big heart and a kick-ass house. Ask friends if they know any loft/art/warehouse spaces that could be gussied up nice. Ask your boss, your coworkers, your dog groomer, your barista and the girl who sets you up with your Girl Scout Cookie fix. Ask EVERYONE if they know a unique, non-commercial place that could be cool for your wedding. Keep these things in mind: 1. If you have a specific look and feel, you either need to communicate it up front or kiss it goodbye (and recall, beggers are not often afforded the luxury of being choosers) and 2. Whoever lets you use their space should be politely extended an invitation to the reception (that they will likely not accept unless they know you intimately), and should be graciously told that their generous hospitality is gift enough.

Or– and this is what we did– keep your standards and your Picky-Patty levels where they are and shop around until you find a spot that is just so worth the money. Because it’s going to cost if you end up paying for a venue, no matter where you get married. Get the most bang for your buck and really find a place that screams First night of Happily Ever After to you.

The second question I’ve seen more than once– and this one is the doozy– is that of minimizing food costs. Nobody wants a crap meal served at their wedding, because if we’re all speaking frankly, the food is the element of the reception that guests interact with the most directly (right up there with the tunes the DJ plays, and the bartender). Nobody wants it to be evident that their wedding came together on a shoe-string, and food is the source of much anxiety for a lot of brides. Hear me now: YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Food is the collective bane of the bride’s existence. Right up there with Mothers-in-Law and That Lingering 5lbs.

My first recommendation is to find a venue that offers food as part of the package. Then haggle. Barter. Ask about making concessions on some parts to cut costs. I wrote a post awhile back on what language works best when making requests like that. I stand by it still. There is certainly a diplomatic and ladylike way to come to a mutually comfortable package with your vendors. It’s all in the language.

Some of you are probably curious as to why I’m not telling you to cut your guest list. Robin did a very eloquent post on that very topic, which you can find here and that I highly recommend. But. In a nutshell: my guest list was 170 long, 120 attended and there was not a damn thing I could do about making it smaller. It was just a fact. We had 120 people with whom we decided we could not and would not get married without. Cutting the budget by cutting the head count was simply out of the question. So I sympathize with the bride who looks at her husband’s giant family and her shrinking bank balance and thinks, “Either the guests go hungry, or we don’t eat for the first three months of being newlyweds… Awesome.”

I haggled with our venue, asking for a package that the venue was nice enough to honor for us (even when they didn’t have to). Most venues will ask you to guarantee a minimum headcount for a lower rate. Most brides in these shoes will have no problem meeting that requirement.

Obligatory Love-fest: once again, I must sing the praises of the Sans Souci of Sea Cliff. Two huge thumbs up and a sloppy kiss on the mouth–they were amazing.

However. If your venue doesn’t have food and you’re at square one, there are a couple options for you.

1. Find a friend/family member/neighbor/cousin/uncle/friend-of-a-friend who loves to cook and ask if they’d be willing to “cater” your big day. Keep in mind that if you’re asking someone who does this professionally, they’re likely going to be more comfortable with a discounted rate as opposed to pro-bono work. Consider the cost of the food alone, to start. Separately, if it’s a close friend of yours, they may insist on doing it for free, in which case you should insist right back that they “gift” it to you, instead of spending money on an additional present, in addition. Also keep in mind that executing a meal for 20+ people is no small feat. You’re going to have to get creative with the menu, taking into consideration what sort of on-site capabilities your venue will have for food-prep.

2. Use local vendors. Whether you’re DIY-ing the food or hiring a caterer, a common-denominator in savings is keeping the suppliers local.

I can hear you, ladies, rolling your eyes and heaving heavy sighs at me. Who wants to cook on their wedding day?! Ugh!! Worst advice EVER! For some women, yes, absolutely. I acknowledge that telling you to cook your own wedding food is sort of like telling you to eat broken glass that’s been glazed in acid and deep-fried. If you are a woman like that… you’re one of the ones who’ll want to find a friend or a caterer and beg, plead and cry until The Universe hears your culinary woes and has mercy on you. Something will pan out for you. Something always does.

For the rest of the women– the women like me, who tend to solve by doing-it-yourself despite all logic and precedence and every single one of your friends advising you against it… Hello, there. You’re in decent company. If Sans Souci hadn’t had a caterer, I would have very easily said, “No big deal. I’ll cook it myself.” I would have made things I could prep in advance (lasagna, cold salads, cheese-and-fruit platters, etc.) and somehow masterminded a way to get it heated and transported. Needless to say it wouldn’t have been a white-glove-server affair, but neither of my families are too high-and-mighty to help themselves buffet-style, and less goes to waste if people can control their own portions.

My point is that it’s not impossible, and you can get great deals on fresh produce if you shop local. I recommend local farmers markets or CSA’s, if you’re planning to do this a little further in advance.

Another key to success is keeping your expectations realistic. If you’re looking to orchestrate a meal by yourself, keep it simple and fool-proof. It is not realistic to expect yourself to put together a five-course formal meal on the day of your wedding. It is fair to plan a laid-back, low-key barbecue picnic wherein you let the groomsmen grill while you and the bridesmaids sip cocktails and watch your loved ones graze a sampling of delicious coleslaws, macaroni and potato salads.

If you’re in doubt, find your most honest friend. Tell her your plans, take her by the shoulders, look her in the eyes and ask, “Are my expectations realistic?” If she nods soberly and promises to be by your side every step of the way, you’re good to go, full speed ahead. If, however, she bursts out laughing and asks you if you’ll be pulling this off before or after you singlehandedly come up with a way to defy gravity… Well, maybe it’s time to hit the drawing boards again.

Either way, you’re not alone. Keep asking questions in the comments. If you see something that’s almost-helpful, ask for more. If you think something is completely off and you’ve got a better solution, speak up! The idea here is that we’re all women who are doing our best, and we’re all here to act as a pool of resources for one another. That’s what communities do.

Take to Twitter. Holler into the void. See what echoes back. And if you see another bride asking for help– reach out. If you don’t have an answer, give her a Re-tweet. It sounds little, but if we all keep tossing pebbles into the pond for one another, the longterm effects are waves. And there’s no limit to how far a wave can travel if it keeps getting propelled in the right direction.

The common denominator is the same. We’re all in this together.

-MMV.

{Tip} Love Your Look

When I came up with the idea to “re-plan” my dream wedding, the question was raised (ahem, by The Hubs) as to whether or not there was anything I liked about our actual wedding day.

“Marrying you!” I said, without bothering to think. “… And my dress,” I added, after a moment. “I really loved my dress.”

And it’s true. I loved my dress from the moment it arrived from J.Crew. James had been dropping little hints that The Proposal was around the corner, on the horizon, coming my way soon– and then The Dress went on sale online. I took it as a sign of Divine Intention that I have it, and I ordered it– a 2 petite– without worrying about fit or cost or the fact that I was not yet engaged. It arrived two days before The Hubs got down on one knee, making it only slightly more timely to our impending nuptials than my husband.

All images courtesy of Jayd Gardina Photography

It was a great dress. It hung the right way and swung the right way. It was just modest enough for me to feel pretty– not stunning, not ravishing, not glamorous… Pretty. Plain. Simple. Natural. Like I looked like myself. It may sound weird– odd, even… Keep in mind, I have always felt a little displaced when I’m all dressed up. I clean up well, but I’m most comfortable in jeans, tees and sneakers. And a ponytail. Oh, how I love my ponytail.

I didn’t want to look like a Princess, a Diva or a Goddess on my wedding day. I wanted a gown that made me look me, that enhanced all the things I love about myself. I found it, and I loved it. I loved every moment of wearing it.

I would wear it all over again. I would love it just as much.

My super-pregnant Matron of Honor buttoned me in.

And then my mother sewed me into my sash, so the boning in my corset wouldn’t show.

My mother sewed the sash for me, then sewed it around me. It was like wearing a hug from her all day long, which I highly recommend doing if you can manage it.

I couldn’t help laughing. It was such a great day, and I felt really comfortable, which is unlike me when I’m being posed and told to hold my head a certain way and whatnot. But Jayd was phenomenal and I was really at ease. Obviously.

I may not have looked like a bride from a magazine. But I looked like the woman The Hubs wanted to marry. And really, given the choice? I chose right.

But, for the sake of do-overs, if I had to choose a new gown… I’d go with this knockout from the Vera Wang White collection. Because why not!

Image repurposed from {here}.

What about you girls? What would you wear if your budget and your theme weren’t a factor? How did you choose your dress? Would you wear it all over again?

-MMV.

{Confession} If I Could Do It All Again

OK. Can I tell you girls a secret? My wedding was perfect, and lovely, an we had a grand old time, and were successfully married. But. As much as I love my wedding, I have to confess… It wasn’t my Dream Wedding Day.

Now, don’t get me wrong… All my dreams came true. And I married the man of my dreams. But cutting our timeline like we did, and taking into consideration that travel capability of the overwhelming majority of our older relatives… The main goal of the day (the getting-married) became the only thing that mattered. The devil in the details that make wedding days Dream Wedding Days, well… we had to make some concessions.

I. I had to make some concessions. The Hubs was one of those amazing grooms that coasted through the whole wedding process in his laid-back, happy-go-lucky, keep-calm-and-carry-on sort of way. He would have been happy with anything (except eloping to City Hall, which I begged him to do on numerous occasions with no success). We had a million reasons to do things the way we did, and I stand by them…

But how would you girls feel about re-planning my Dream Wedding with me? Flipping through my blogroll this week, I realized that I’m a country girl at heart– and a summer, country wedding is what I’d put together if I could do it all again.

Image from Tec Petaja Photography

Images from Hilton Pittman Photography

I’d keep it DIY, of course– from the bouquets to the menu to the bar to the lights in the trees. What do you say, ladies? You in?

And how would you do your wedding if you could do it all differently?

-MMV.

{Confession} I Faked It.

I don’t mean it like that. Get your minds out of the gutter. (Just kidding. Keep them there. Totally keep them there.) *Chuckles to self over implied dirty pun.*

What I’m referring to is The Honeymoon (and I’m still not talking about the wink, wink nudge, nudge bits). I’m talking about the whole shebang, the whole kit n’caboodle. All the apples. The entire enchilada. From start to finish, from the flight down to the exhausted collapse on our bed at home: I deny The Honeymoon.

Yeah, I know. I sound crazier than normal. You’re just going to have to trust me when I tell you that I’m as sane as I normally am (which is not altogether “completely” but is also not “madder than a hatter”). It’s just, what we had was not a Honeymoon.

It was a vacation with my parents.

Before we bumped the wedding, we had planned to go on vacation with my parents in March. (To REALLY clarify, my mother and I had a quick conversation about her plans to go to Florida for my father’s birthday. I mentioned James and I need a vacation. Four months later– having not talked it about it all since– she called me to tell me the vacation was all booked! SURPRISE, Mallory! My lack of mind-reading skills still shocks her, even after all these years.)

A little insight into vacationing with my mother. My mom does not know these women. They were total strangers. She just saw their tiaras and their feather boas and realized that it was divine providence that they meet, so she scurried up to their group and announced that they were all her new friends, then made them all pose for photos. (I don’t try to stop her anymore. It’s just easier to ride it out. And, anyway, as you can tell, her compass always leads her to kindred spirits. These women thought she was a riot.)

So we were going to take vacation in March, then get married in November. It was plenty of time in between, just in case I ended up terribly sunburnt and freckly. But then the wedding had to be moved, and for a myriad of reasons (mostly my lack of sanity) the weekend before vacation was the only weekend that worked. March 18 became our new anniversary and The Vacation was promoted to The Honeymoon.

Well, it’s been demoted again, and I’ll tell you why. Vacations are great– nobody cares if you sleep until noon or if you eat five meals a day (and so what if one of those meals consisted entirely of giant pieces of caramel?) or if you change out of pajamas (which I didn’t, you should know. I just changed from one set of pajamas into another set of pajamas).

Vacations with your parents are even better because they say things like, “We’ll pay for dinner,” and “Oh, you got sauce on your pajamas? It’s ok. I have a shout wipe,” and “Gee whiz I hope your sister’s feelings weren’t hurt that we went on vacation without her,” (which is always a riot). And you can ask them to snap photographs without worrying about them stealing your camera (this is especially true if your camera lives in your iPhone, and your mother can never be sure if she’s taking photographs or video).

We totally grossed the kid next to us out. It was glorious. (And yes. I really am that pale.)

Even Disney is better with your parents. Not only will your mother encourage you to eat as much candy as you want (because you’re too skinny as it is and, anyway, no daughter of hers has even backed down to a challenge that involved consuming chocolate, so wo-man up!) but your father will inevitably delight in having a new man (your husband) to drink with before noon.

Everyone ends up a little buzzed and sugar high. But that’s not the best part. The best part is that you don’t find yourself somehow a little drunk and queasy, on the Tower of Terror, wondering how you ended up on the most horrible ride ever, screaming to your new husband that no, you do not think this is fun.

Your mother does.

Note of Caution: You might still find yourself in line for some other terrible ride, like the Rock’N Rollercoaster, which not only has a section that is terrifying and pitch black, but also makes you go upside down in pitch black, which will likely lead to all sorts of soul-searching and verbal questioning of your new spouse as to why he would ever force you to do something so awful, and doesn’t he love you at all?! (He does. He just also really loves awful roller coasters.)

But. Here’s the thing. Going on vacation with your parents after the wedding and calling it a honeymoon doesn’t work because the whole point of having a honeymoon is doing what you’ve constantly wanted to do for the last three months of wedding planning: Escape your families.

There’s just something you don’t recuperate when you don’t take time by yourselves to be a newlywed couple. Now, keep in mind that we live with The Hubs’ parents, so we really seriously absolutely never get a break. We never have time to just be us, to just pal around in space that feels like it belongs to us. We didn’t do that. At all.

We still haven’t.

At first I was just going to let it go. I wasn’t going to press the issue or make a fuss because we don’t really have the time or the money to go away, and we’re just starting to feel like we’ve gotten our routine worked out. (And it felt a little dirty to take ANOTHER “honeymoon” after we ran around Disney shoving our “We’re Celebrating!” pins in everyone’s faces.)

But if there’s one thing that I can’t oversell in Post Wedding World, it is the value of having time to just spend with your husband. If that can take the shape of a bonafide Honeymoon for you– do it. If it can’t, then tuck away and unplug for a long weekend and commit to doing what you two initially set out to do as man and wife: hole up on the couch, in your pajamas, with a quart of ice cream each (so you don’t have to share) and shamelessly chain-watch the RHONJ Marathons on Bravo.

And if you’ve found yourself home from your honeymoon, thinking to yourself, “One was not enough,” well… You’re probably right; it probably wasn’t. So take two. (I plan to!)

I’ll take three if I have to, to feel like I’m spending enough quality time with that fancy new husband of mine. Time together is just one of those things that you need to be a successful unit. To be The Team. So take as much time and as many Honeymoons as it takes to get you to that place…

… And keep in mind that when I say, “We’re all in this together,” I’m referring to your groom, too. Chances are pretty good that if you feel like you need some more alone-time, he probably does, too. There will always be a million reasons not to– not to take the time or spend the money or disrupt your routines.

But keep in mind that the most important reason is the reason why you’re walking down the aisle in the first place: You love one another best of all, and you want to prioritize that bond above everything else.

Sometimes that means getting away together. Sometimes that means setting all the reasons not to aside. Sometimes that means being unreasonable.

Be unreasonable. Take the time. Consider this The Universe giving you permission. It’s worth it in the end, to your marriage and your peace of mind and your emotional stability. Home will always be there, waiting for you to get back:

I promise. (I’ve been there.)

-MMV.

{From the Trenches} A Full Recovery

Ladies… This is Filippa.

This is Filippa. Yes, she always looks this good. It’s amazing.

Filippa is my Work Friend. She was kind enough to take me out to lunch on my first Friday in the office, and made polite small talk as she lead me through midtown, pointing out where I can get a good cup of coffee and find the best salads. She helped me navigate Duke’s, and asked sweet questions about my upcoming wedding, and didn’t bat an eyelash as I sucked in a deep breath and said, evenly, “OK. Be really honest with me. Give me the office breakdown.”

She burst out laughing, her whole pretty face lighting up, and sighed, “Oh, I am so glad you cut right to the chase.” We’ve been friends ever since.

There is a special place in Heaven for women who watch other women’s backs. She gently helped me navigate the waters of the office, making sure I didn’t commit any taboo faux-pas, making sure I knew where to find the white out and the highlighters… Showing me where to find the secret Keurig machine.

She hugged me and wished me luck as I bustled out of the office the last day before the wedding. She squealed with delight as I presented her with a seating card from the wedding (one featuring Queen Alice, which would have put her at my table) and her own half-wreath of paper flowers and pinwheels. She complimented my dress and raved about our perfect weather and I could tell by the way her eyes sparkled that she was truly happy for me.

Do you know how rare that is, girls? Do you know how precious it is to find a woman at work who goes out of her way to show kindness to the new girl? Gratitude doesn’t begin to describe my reverence to the Universe for lending me Filippa.

And so, it gives me great joy to report that this weekend, after an extraordinary acoustic-guitar singalong after an ordinary date-night, Filippa’s boyfriend of five years got down on one knee and asked her if she’d do him the honor of being his wife.

Filippa & Mark – A very handsome couple!

She was there to remind me where to find the official copy documents when I forgot. And she reminded me which meeting was for which department when I forgot. And she reminded me how radiant women can be when they’re newly minted as a future-newlywed.

She just glows, you know? And she reminded me, like she always does, that weddings are really beautiful, because love is really beautiful. And I woke up this morning, and I realized… I like weddings again.  I like my wedding, and her wedding, and the general happiness and beauty and glow that weddings infuse into the lives of the women who touch them. (You know… for the most part.)

Her happiness helped me make my full recovery, and now I’m here, come full circle… And oh, it’s so nice to be standing in the sun once more.

So please join me in welcoming Filippa to the leagues of brave women who have gone before her, through the decorated, embossed, lace-lined land of Engagementdom. We here in Wedding World have another worthy woman among us, a woman who deserves every happiness wedded bliss has to offer, because help and happiness is what she gives back as a point of daily order.

She made me feel so much less alone when I started by new job, if there is nothing else I could offer her as she embarks on what will surely be one of the most magical, most trying journeys of her life, it’s this simple assurance: We’re all in this together.

-MMV.

{True Life} Perspective

Hi, girls.  *Awkward foot shuffle.* I have to admit, for the past couple weeks now… I’ve felt a little like Debbie Downer. I think there’s a pretty fine line between Being Honest and Being a Total Drag. I’m sorry, if I bounced back and forth across that line. I’m better now. {… I think.}

I realized something this past weekend. There are two kinds of brides out there: The kind of bride who loves her wedding, and the planning, and the details and the attention, and the kind of bride who will do the rest of it if it results in being married, period. The former is, easily, the better sort of bride to be associated with. I, sadly, still live in the latter category.

Here’s the thing—don’t misunderstand me, I loved my wedding day. Getting there, though… those last, harrowing 72 hours… I just like, descended into the dark place, and I’m still reconciling what exactly that means to me, for me, about me… whatever. I Bridezilla’d. And I’m not proud of it. And I’m still recovering from it. Getting married and crafting your way there, it pushes you so much further than most women go, pulls you out of your comfort zone and so far past your boundaries that you’re not even sure you’d recognize them if you found your way back again. (Don’t worry. You will. Eventually.)

I lost it for a couple days. But at least I can admit it.

And you know what? Then I found it again. I’m not a Wifezilla. So, there’s that. I have that going for me, even if I’m not ready to giggle about how pretty my paper flowers were. And you know what else? I have perspective.

First of all, being a wife is much better than being a fiancée. Especially if you have the supreme privilege of marrying your best friend. I recommend being married.

I have amazing girlfriends, who stood by me before I married that boy and will stand by me long after.

{Yes, that’s a bridesmaid who’s roughly a thousand months pregnant. Yes, my girls are amazing.}

{And let’s not forget the lovely and beautiful Grace Caudle of Plan with Grace, who not only kept the whole day running smoothly, but is also one of my dear friends.}

I have a mother who taught me how to be fearless, and silly, and strong. A mother who showed me what it means to be a friend, and what it looks like to let other women be a friend to you.

…I have people in my life who encourage me to explore, grow, learn… stay curious…

…I have anecdotal proof that miracles happen, that magic is as real as it felt when I was a little girl, dreaming of growing through these years (Recall that super-pregnant bridesmaid? I’d like you to meet Maggie, her super-precious daughter, newly minted on April 27^th of this year)…

… And I have a team of dudes who will have my back in the event of a zombie apocalypse. And let’s be really honest… What more could a girl ask for?

The moral, of course, is to anticipate that it might take you a little time to recover from your wedding. It’s OK, if that’s the case. You’re not broken, or crazy, or a bad person. Just commit to finding your perspective again, once you get to the other side.

-MMV.

{Confession} I Royally Loved It!

Y’all should know that I had another post drafted until, literally, two seconds ago. It was glorious and pithy and edited and had photos and was everything Dear Dana wishes I could deliver in a timely manner each week. (Secondary Confession: For someone who’s a Project Manager by trade, I am pathologically incapable of getting my weekly posts done on time. And Dana is just as pathologically forgiving. And that’s the inside scoop!)

But. BUT. You see. Ahem. Here’s the issue. That post was all about how ridiculous I thought the Royal Wedding hype was. And I was reading through all the post-reporting on it, and I came across the image that brought a laugh to the global bridal community! I saw this:

Flower girl images stealthily repurposed from this site.

And even if you feel the way I do about weddings right now, you just have to love how priceless a wedding moment this is. Even the future queen of England could not keep the flower girl from photobombing her in front of the whole world.

No, but seriously. How great is this? It’s E.P.I.C. It will be on display at this youngster’s wedding for sure.

So I chuckled a bit, and realized that I hadn’t done that over a wedding in a long time. It got me thinking.

Truth be told, I have not fully recovered from MY OWN wedding. No matter how perfect your wedding day goes– and mine was, literally, flawless, save for my one *small* snafoo– if you’re anything like me, you will find yourself avoiding talking about anything that has anything to do with weddings (and if you’re crafting, you will really want to curl up into a ball and cry and violently flash back to the last 72 hours before your big day when you produced more paper flowers and favor packets and decor than FACTORIES that SPECIALIZE in those products anytime someone mentions how lovely your day was. But no worries. You will somehow fight that urge and smile and politely pretend you don’t know what they’re talking about. Pffft, all WHAT hard work? You’re so cool under pressure.).

Right. My point. My point is that I muscled through and told you lovelies all the tips for success like we had. But above and beyond that? I don’t talk about my wedding. We have photobooth images that aren’t on Facebook. We still haven’t seen our slideshow and, truth be told, I’m in no hurry.

On my good days, it was good to sort of recollect my life and shuffle inconspicuously away from my wedding’s reach. Which is easier now that it’s over, but don’t let anyone kid you– your wedding still has you by the hair until those thank you’s are in the mail. Which left us with “most other days” where avoiding anything wedding was my default mode. (You should see my Google Reader feed. I’m THOUSANDS of posts behind. Which is SHAMEFUL.)

Lest you think I’m exaggerating. Sadly, terrifyingly, I am not.

And then The Royal Wedding happened. And I wasn’t averse, really. (I’ve always been more Team Harry, so my dreams weren’t dashed that day. See Also: I’m married, so I broke his heart first.) But I also was not, admittedly, *dying* to know who did her dress or how her hair was going to be styled or where her tiara is from. (Cartier, for the record. It was a gift given to The Queen on her 18th birthday and she was kind enough to let the Former Miss Middleton borrow it.)

And had I not been invited to help cook an English breakfast with my brilliant friend Amy, I wouldn’t have planned to watch at all. But then my sinuses flared up so I had to cancel breakfast with Amy. And then a random, weird cat was howling outside out window at precisely 5am. Which woke me up. I rolled over to Twitter and my goodness, you brides were up early and chatting up a STORM. So I flipped on the TV, reasoning that even The Royal Wedding was better than staring at the ceiling and seething at The Hubs with blind rage for his ability to sleep through loud stray animals in the yard.

I’m not sure what I expected. $30Million Budget? I guess I expected gold-plated unicorns flying through the cathedral rafters and a red-carpet made of hand-sewn rainbow fragments, collected and imported directly from Ireland. And life-size marble statues of William and Kate. I expected straight faces and stuff upper lips and all that jolly good British-Royalty stuff.

You know what I saw? I saw William and Harry milling through the church, greeting their guests and leaning over to share affections with their family. I saw brothers, supporting one another. I saw smiles and laughter and love– all the things that I glimpsed when I stole peeks into the church before my march down the aisle. I saw the groom’s brother *shamelessly* ogle the bride (and her little sister!), and a flower girl photobomb to end all photobombs.

I saw two people who are clearly the very best of friends swear to honor and protect their love above all else. I heard a woman stand up before the world and promise to love and cherish and honor and support her husband. (And, in leaving out the word “obey,” I heard a woman tell the world that she can demonstrate all those things to her husband as an equal, without being subservient.)

But that was just it. We tuned in to watch a girl become a princess and what I saw, above all else, was two best friends become man and wife. They became prince and princess only incidentally. And I wasn’t expecting that.

It shook me.

I’m not saying that I immediately caught up on my Google Reader feed (I didn’t.) or that I’m cured of my paper-flower twitch (I’m not!) but it warmed my heart in a way that, let’s be honest, only a wedding that is clearly a manifestation of love and mutual respect and admiration can. (And it was refreshing to be reminded that all the money and power and prestige, literally, in the world can’t guarantee that your siblings will behave and the little ones won’t go rogue.)

Am I cured of being a wedding pariah? Well, not entirely. But it was an unexpected and appreciated reconnection with what I love about these dog-and-pony shows. (And if my mother asks, I am ALL OVER getting those proofs from the photographer, ok? Excellent.)

You girls totally have my back, right? I mean, let’s not forget… We’re all in this together.

-MM.

{True Life} I’m MARRIED 2.0

Two weeks ago, I was telling you all the reasons why I’m so smart. Today, I’m going to do a little more of that. This is partially because my ego needs a little preening this week and partially because there were other major factors in the success of our wedding.

6. We looked at everything from our wedding party & guests’ POV. In a perfect world, traveling to and from a wedding wouldn’t be even the smallest of inconveniences. Sadly, we live in The Real World, where you are singly the most excited about your wedding, and traveling guests are all put-out a bit. (Yes, even the ones who are too polite to let on.)

Don’t worry, nobody is keeping score (and anyway, you travelled for every baptism and bat mitzvah your aunts schemed up, so if there WAS a score, you would totally be winning). But. To make sure that your guests have optimal enjoyment with minimal stress, take a look at everything from their point of view. It could be as simple as looking at your guest-list breakdown and assessing what each category of people will experience. For example: My whole family travelled five hours, most of them by car, from Upstate NY to Long Island. Some of our friends simply took a train out from the city, but then needed to get to the church and reception. Some people had kids. Some people were in their 80s and wanted nothing more than to be given a seat and a meal and to be kept away from the speakers.

Just to make sure all our guests were able to enjoy the wedding, we addressed the specific itinerary of each demographic — and I’ll tell you what, a great time to do this is right after you do your seating chart, because you seat people (or, we sat people) from similar groups together. Parents & Family from Long Island had no extra needs because they knew the lay of the land. They got a schedule and that was about it. For our grandparents, we arranged a car service (which is more than the bridal party got) so we wouldn’t have to worry about half the family sitting in traffic if things went south in collecting them. My family from out of town were given schedules, maps, lists of local salons (for manicures), food marts (for people traveling with kids too young to appreciate the goodness of bar food) and the numbers for both my Day-of-Coordinator and the local taxi service (just in case). And so on, and so forth.

Beyond that, we made the decision to hold the “rehearsal dinner” in the bar nestled right in the hotel. This was one of my most brilliant ideas, and I’ll tell you why. 1. We did not need two formal sit-down meals in a 12-hour chunk of time. Period. Bar food, Billiards and Foosball was just what the doctor ordered, especially since the Groomsmen were all kind enough to curtail their St. Patty’s celebration until after the rehearsal. 2. Family who travelled in early were welcomed to attend, too, which gave everyone a chance to mix and mingle before the emotionally charges wedding. By the time cocktail hour hit, our previously unfamiliar families were laughing together like they were all lifelong friends. 3. I snuck away and went to bed at 11pm, just like I wanted to, without worrying about everyone eating or being too drunk to drive. They only had to be sober enough to stagger back to their (someone’s) room and sleep it off.

And you know what? A little extra thought on our part was repaid back to us 1,000% when all our guests enjoyed the wedding as thoroughly as we hoped they would.

7. We did a first look and a last-dance. When I spoke with our photographer, DJ and coordinators I realized how inconsiderate a lot of brides are when it came to their vendors’ time. The last thing we wanted to do was disrespect these professionals (or violate our contracts) by starting too late or running too long. At the end of the day, they were there to do a job, and if I didn’t create a schedule and commit to it, I wouldn’t have been doing my part to make sure they had all the tools necessary to do that job.

Our photographer was the first vendor we booked, and I was so in love with her work, I wanted to make sure she had all the time and flexibility she wanted to get the shots we discussed. I also realized early on that our guests largely ate supper early (between 5pm & 6pm) and to make them wait much longer than that could lead to cranky relatives. The challenge then became that our reception ended “early” (10pm, which is actually VERY LATE when you’re exhausted after the sleepless nights and long days associated with Wedding Week).

I grappled with timelines. If we had the photographer for ten hours, and I was to be out of the venue by 10pm, there was a lot that had to get done starting at noon if I wanted to “have it all” when it came to photos.

We opted to do a “First Look” as a solution to not having enough time to get portraits taken and enjoy our reception and keep the experience light and fun for our guests. I there are not enough emphasis tools in the internet to tell you how strongly I recommend considering this route.

8. We stayed focused on what mattered– getting married to each other. There are always going to be things you want to yell at your partner about. Especially during wedding-planning. But– and I hate to be the bearer of foul news– HAVING the wedding doesn’t solve the frustrations you felt during planning. In fact, a solid month after the I Do’s were done, I still found myself with an alarmingly short fuse when it came to cutting The Hubs slack. I’m not sure if it’s because we were engaged for so long, or if it’s because I don’t *love* his current taste in video games (Ultimate Alliance is not as fun to watch someone play-through as Portal 2. Period.) Regardless.

The thing we did on the wedding day was focus on each other. We stood back as much as possible and watched the action evolve around us. I snuggled under his arm and we whispered little snippets of happiness and love to one another. We spent the whole day repeating, out loud to one another, how grateful we were to be there, marrying our best friend.

Keep your eyes on the prize, girls, and keep your groom focused on what matters, too. The whole world can crumble around you if it wants to. On this day (and you know what? Maybe even on this day alone) your true love for each other will overcome everything else. You just have to stay focused on letting it.

9. I wore flats. I spent almost 4 straight years in stilettos. I worked in fashion & PR and went to school in New York City and was pathologically allergic to admitting I am 5’2. I wore stilettos to work. I wore stilettos to school. I wore stilettos to dinner, drinks, dancing and sorority meetings. I wore stilettos everywhere except to bed, and let’s be honest, there was a night or two in there when I awoke the next morning with my shoes still on my feet. Ahem.

But then something funny happened. I took a job with a sportswear company and suddenly I had to wear sportsfashion clothing all the time. Are you all aware of how COMFORTABLE sneakers are? And ballet flats? And how much stilettos pinch if your feet are no longer calloused in all the right spots? Yeah.

I worked in sportsfashion and management for the three years before James and I got married. And let me tell you, my dress was simple and my feet were not interested in being crammed into pinchy shoes for 14 hours.

So I didn’t do it. My father in law almost died when I showed him the AMAZINGLY comfortable navy suede ankle-strap ballet flats I found (on sale! For $20!). They were simple and classy and I danced the night away in comfort and style.

It goes to say: When you look back on your wedding day, understand that you’re going to remember if you don’t pay attention to the small details. Like whether or not your shoes are going to make you bleed all over your dress.

10. I signed my vows. Both of my in-laws are fully deaf. When The Hubs and I were talking about the wedding day and what could make it more special, we decided to incorporate little throwbacks to our lineage and culture wherever possible. As much as being Sicilian is in my husbands blood, and as preciously regarded in his heart, his family celebrates their deaf culture with pride.

Assimilating into his family and the deaf culture was a real eye-opener for me. His parents are two of the smartest, funniest, most engaging and vivacious people I’ve met. They don’t let their inability to hear affect their ability to live, and I certainly don’t look at them as disabled. It’s a monomer that would be horribly misplaced if applied to them. They just faced a different set of challenges than other, which they met and rose above with flying colors.

When it came time to integrate our cultural backgrounds into the wedding, we decided that I would wear an Irish lace veil, and that we would both sign our vows. I’m timid with sign language, because I haven’t had time to properly learn it, and it took a lot of practicing. But at the end of it all, when I was standing in front of the church and surprised my new in-laws with this gesture—when they saw me tell James I’d love him and be faithful to him above all others—it was also a gesture of my love and commitment to them as my family.

Weddings are about you, and they’re about everyone else. There’s no two ways around it. If you’re going to tow the line on some decisions, make sure you throw people a bone in other areas. At the end of the day, a wedding is about two families coming together. People—especially parents—appreciate it when you acknowledge that what’s happening on the altar is bigger than a boy and a girl dressed in pretty clothing, getting antsy for the after-party. They took making your family seriously. It’s nice to show them that as you’re growing the lineage, you’re taking it seriously, too.

And that’s it! In a nutshell, those are the things we did that made our wedding so perfect. So precious. So special. So amazing.

And you know what? I’ll tell you a secret… I’m still not sad it’s over. I love The Hubs and I’d marry him all over again if I had to, but between you and me, Internet… Next time, we’ll elope.

It just goes to say that weddings are a lot of work, and when you find yourself feeling alone and scared that the choices you’re making might not be the best… When you feel overwhelmed or frustrated or like nobody’s wedding has ever been as ridiculous and all-consuming as yours… remember two things: 1. There is at least one woman out there who understands what you’re going through and agrees that your situation is totally the short end of the stick and 2. It’s only temporary. (I promise.)

Until next time, stay strong and lean on one another to get through the tough stuff! Don’t forget… We’re all in this together!

-MMV.

{Confession} I botched it.

Oh, you know what? I think my post last week was misleading. There was this one teensy tiny, itty bitty thing that I did that… Fine, you know what? I sort of botched it.

I didn’t do anything too stupid. I feel like I have to tell you that, because if you know me even a little (and, let’s be honest, you do) you know that my admission of a small botch could be tantamount to lighting the church on fire accidentally. But I did throw The Husband for a loop, and (I’m certain) shocked the guests in attendance of the wedding. And I’ll tell you the very mistake I made that lead to my mortifying moment on my wedding day:

I prepared for the reception. Not the ceremony.

Go back. Go back to that post I did awhile back, the one that talked about the difference between Getting Married and Having A Wedding. Remember when I so wisely told you all that the good stuff happens during the getting married and the having a wedding is all bonus? Well. It turns out I was totally right, and yet, still totally unprepared.

I knew going into this dog and pony show that if there was going to be a moment when I cried, it would be when my father gives me away. There are a million reasons for this– not the least of which is that I’m an incurable Daddy’s Girl. Suffice it to say that if my makeup was going to get ugly, I knew that would be the moment when it all came undone. So.

So I rushed through the rehearsal a little.

Yes, I know! Shhhhh, with the judgy faces and the tsk-tsk noises. I say it out loud to myself and I know how silly it was of me, but everyone was staring at me, waiting to see if I was going to crack. Partially, I didn’t need to. I was level-headed and fairly not-stressed-out. But mostly… I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. The naysayers that were openly shocked that I hadn’t bride-hulked out on them through the planning process. (My mother isn’t one of them. She will tell you that I was positively awful the whole time I was engaged. She’ll also tell you I’m a mean daughter because she doesn’t have a grandchild yet.)

Right, so I rushed through rehearsal and didn’t really pay too much mind to the way that the hand-off would go between my father and my future husband, mostly because that’s when I knew the waterworks would kick up. At the time, it didn’t seem like a big deal, because I was winning (read: not crying) and I was hungry and it was the fastest way to close the gap between the rehearsing part and the dinner part.

The next afternoon, when I was left all by myself with my father in the back of the church, peering through the windows in the chapel doors, waiting for Here Comes the Bride to kick up, I realized what I thought was my first mistake, but really was the second. Or maybe it was the first. (Anyway, if you’re going to make mistakes, it’s when you take your walk down the aisle, so… write this down.) First and foremost, I had picked an entrance song that was less traditional, and then did not bother to listen to it several times through to know where the entrance cues might be. Instead, I stood in the back of the church having a conversation like this with my father:

Dad: Do we go now?
Me: … Uh…
Dad: You don’t know when we go?
Me: You were at the rehearsal, too. Weren’t you paying attention?
Dad: You weren’t either.
*music gets louder and I realize that everyone is staring at us.*
Me: Well… it’s now or never. I’m going to go get married. You coming?
Dad (with a smile): Yep!

And we marched down the aisle, arm in arm. And that’s when I started crying a little. But that’s not the big bumble I made.

The big bumble I made happened somewhere after my father whispered, “Slow down, Murph.” and before I found myself sitting next to my in-the-process-of-becoming husband. We got to the end of the aisle, and my father leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek, and everyone and their mother (and my mother, and my sister, and my new mother, and my new sister, and my new grandfather, and my aunts) were snapping photographs, and there was like this blinding flurry of motion and Dad shook The Soon-to-be-Husband’s hand and then…

I panicked a little. Because I was trying not to cry but also trying not to step on my dress and I suddenly realized that I was perhaps a little unprepared for the moment because I had to step around furniture and there was my matron of honor (who was nine months pregnant, so I didn’t want her to step around the chair because what if she touched it and popped?!) and so, I did what I always do when I get a little panicked: I thought to myself in a long, rambling, semi-coherent run-on sentence all the things I detailed for you just now, and then I leaned forward, pressed my right hand to The Groom’s shirtfront, and caught him (and everyone else in the church) completely off guard by stealing a small peck of a kiss from him.

And I could see it on his face and hear it as the crowd sucked their teeth through their breath. I blushed right away, and half-expected the priest to throw his hands up with exasperation and mutter something like, “Well, that’s it, you morons. We have to call the whole thing off! Don’t you know the rules about kissing?!”

I didn’t. I didn’t know the rules about kissing, and I was panicked, so I did what I always do, which is turn to The Groom for comfort and think about the consequences afterward.

The Priest didn’t yell, though. James just sort of looked at me like, What are you doing, crazyhead? Then he took me by the hand and lead me around my chair, where my matron of honor was also looking at me with that Oh, Mallory sort of expression on her face. They still let us get married, but it took me a couple minutes to recover.

Had I jinxed my marriage?

I still haven’t Googled it, because I have no desire to know. (I did think about Googling it, but my coordinator had my clutch, which had my phone, and anyway, if I have a hard time getting away with checking the internet during regular mass, I reasoned it would be a longshot to get away with Googling during my wedding.) It was when I was thinking about Googling the kissing regulations and their connections to jinxes that I realized that my engagement ring was still on my left hand. So there, in front of Sweet Baby Jesus, the priest (who could see me the whole time) and my new family (who, thankfully, could not) I had to muscle my very tiny ring off of my supernaturally sausagelike finger and transfer it to the other hand (because I might be a total wreckingball over the kissing, but I’m smart enough to know that that is unlucky). And the priest just stood on the alter, preaching to the church, making eye contact with me the whole time I was struggling with my larger-than-life digits.

Ugh. Ugh, I tell you. Do not be that girl. Do not be me. When you picture what your wedding day will be like, picture it all. Download your entrance song on iTunes and sit with your eyes closed. Envision what it will look like, staring down the aisle at your friends, who have all gone fearlessly before you to guide you on your way. Think about the steps you’ll take, and how you’ll have one last moment at the back of the church with your father, who will be himself fighting back tears, wondering where the years all went that closed the gap between your scabby-kneed days, how you turned so quickly into the marvelously beautiful woman standing before him.

When you walk down the aisle, you’re going to want to run to that man that you’re about to marry. Take a moment and share a smile with your mother, especially if you spent the previous week yelling at her (or screaming to her about how everyone else deserved to be yelled at). If you can, mouth “thank you” to your maid of honor. Everyone else will think you’ve just said a curse word, but she’ll know what you meant. She always knows what you mean.

About halfway down, your father is going to tug at your arm and tell you to slow down. Later, he’ll joke and tell you that he was worried the photos that he’s paying all that money for were going to end up blurry, but you’ll both know that he was just trying to hold onto the last fleeting moments, when you were still his little girl, and he had you on his arm. Give him those last few moments. Share them together.

And then, when you’re about 3/4 of the way there, your eyes will lock onto that fiance of yours. And everything else going on around you will just take a breath for a second. It’ll just stop. It’ll just… melt away. And he’ll give you that cute little nervous smile, the one you saw for the first time when he asked you out, and then when your hand grazed his, and then again when he met your parents for the firs time. You’re comfortable together now, so you didn’t realize that you missed it, but there it’ll be, an old friend, waiting for you as you make your way toward him.

And you’ll get there, and right before the world snaps back to life, and the people are there, taking the photos, and the men are shaking hands and you’re trying to step around furniture without popping anyone… Right before all that happens, you’re going to feel like you’ve just taken the longest walk of your life.

And you know what? You absolutely have. You will have, in twenty-or-so steps, have crossed the canyon between what it means to be someone’s girlfriend, and arrived firmly on the ground of what it means to be someone’s wife. Your hard work will have brought all your loved-ones together. You got everyone outfitted. You made sure they’d all be fed. You arranged car services and nail services and hair appointments. You looked at stationary and researched flowers and ate more cake than you’ll ever admit, even to your matron of honor (who knows even without you confessing it, but don’t worry, she’ll never tell). You grew in ways that only the most devoted couples grow– you grew together.

And then you’ll stand there, together, the center of the flurry of all this action…

And if you want to kiss your almost-husband, you know where I stand on the matter. Lean in and give him a little smooch if it’ll make you feel better. That’s what getting married is about– helping one another when the pressure is high and the anxiety is peaked and you know where to turn for comfort.

My point– and I do have one, I promise– my point is that if you’re going to get to the end of the aisle and want to kiss your groom… it’s something that you’ll feel better about knowing ahead of time. So go, buy your wedding entrance song on iTunes. Run yourself a hot bubble bath. Take 20 minutes out of your day to go lay in the suds with your eyes closed, picturing that walk down the aisle. The swish of the fabric of your gown. The way the world will look as your father raises your veil. What you’re going to do with your elbows as you carry your bouquet. What will the carpet feel like underneath your shoes? What will the sunlight look like, streaming through the glass? How will the music bounce off the walls of the chapel?

Go on, dream about it. They’re right when they tell you that it swirls past you in the blink of an eye. Savor it as much as you can ahead of time. Because, I was right, too. The most important part of the day is the getting married.

The best advice I can give you… is prepare accordingly.

And don’t be afraid to ask questions to the brides who have gone before you. Walking in your shoes, we’re a well of knowledge that won’t judge or belittle your curiosity. There are some things that you will simply not know unless you ask someone who’s been there. So don’t be afraid to. Because, don’t forget… we’re all in this together.

-MMV.