We may earn money or products from the companies mentioned in this post. By clicking on the links and making a purchase, you're helping to support the site so we can keep bringing you badass ideas.
I think we all have an element of the typical wedding aesthetic that makes our teeth itch. Some people cringe at the site of taffeta, others’ stomachs churn at the smell of flowers. My wedding kryptonite is glitter.
Glitter. Ugh. It’s like a decorative invasive species. It takes foothold in our festive environments, latches on to unsuspecting persons and things, and with no natural predator/easy way to be cleaned, it flourishes. I know it isn’t physically possible for glitter to reproduce, but I also suspect glitter is so insidious it isn’t bound by the law of conservation of mass.
My first run-in with wedding glitter was before I was engaged. When my fiance Collin’s sister Carrie got married, my soon-to-be mother-in-law Viki, who is an artist, hand-painted their chuppah with a tree of life in glittering silver. Viki stored the chuppah fabric on the spare bed in Collin’s old room until the weekend of the wedding. I’m sure she washed the sheets in preparation for our arrival, Viki’s an ace hostess like that, but washing sheets is no match for glitter. So when Collin and I arrived in town for the wedding and stayed in his old room, we were infected. You can see glitter on my chest in the wedding photos. I’m pretty sure I was still catching stray sparkly specks on my person after Carrie got back from her honeymoon.
And now my nemesis has re-emerged in a way that really frustrates my broke-ass sensibilities. Re-use is a huge part of our wedding budget-control strategy (as you can see here, I had no qualms about reclaiming Carrie’s wire napkin rings to fashion my bridesmaid’s bouquets). So when I heard that Viki had held on to the table numbers from Carrie’s wedding, I rejoiced because I had one less minor detail to throw my cha-ching cha-ching at. But then she showed them to me (I was at Carrie’s wedding, obviously, but I couldn’t for the life of me recall one characteristic of her table numbers, because really, that is the most minor of details), and I saw that each table number was spelled out in chunky glitter. I told Viki that as much as I appreciated her offer and as much as I wanted to save money on this project, I just couldn’t let that much glitter into my wedding venue. Even after my father-in-law-to-be pointed out the glitter is the same exact color as my (glitter free!) chuppah fabric. Viki, fortunately, was very understanding of quirky distate for glitter and is working on a way to reuse the pieces without unleashing the glitter Kraken upon my wedding.
But the fight against glitter is far from over. At the very least, I know that when we get married, I will open each card with the delicacy one usually reserves for an oil-stained brown package with no return address and excess postage, hoping to be able to enjoy my guests’ well-wishes without exposing myself to the light-reflecting cancer cheaply glued to the greeting cards containing those sentiments.
Anyone else share my aversion to glitter? What are your wedding kryptonites? Does the color white make your blood run cold… does lace make your brow furrow… does champagne make you vom? Have you had to swallow your pride and exposed yourself to these things in the name of saving money? Vent in the comments!