A Toast to Weddings

Our family has a big wedding this summer. My husband’s brother is getting married. And though marriages are about unions and people and love, they often wind up as a mad dash for the Big Day, in the midst of all the pageantry. This, in my opinion, is pretty universal. This also, in my opinion, has no reflection on the couple, as they can usually keep their eye on the prize. It's often the family and guests that get caught up in the EXCITEMENT because weddings are EXCITING, and for all the right reasons. And, as I am about to extricate in the below transcripts, for some peripheral, secondary reasons, too—Like DRESSES!!! In this particular case, the excitement is heightened because the venue is SO LOVELY (at least from what I have gleaned from my Online P.I. skills; see the pic to your upper left; nice, right?) and, therefore, there is added incentive to clean ourselves up a bit more than usual. Mostly, we are just looking forward to seeing the bride in her gown (and she will know this when she sees us all falling into the aisle, fighting to catch the first glimpse of her—we’re not ones for conventions, or manners, really) But, our excitement surrounding the event tends to trickle off into our own lives and manifest itself in discussions regarding our own wardrobe selections for the wedding. To be fair, when I say ‘we,’ I probably mean ‘me,’ as I am often the one initiating the topic. The other women in the family appear to have what I have heard referred to as LIVES. The very existance of this blog attests to the extent to which I am unfamiliar with that particular word. But, for argument's sake, I’ll say ‘we.’

Since the engagement, I have had the following conversations with the women in my family. Mind you, I may have embellished, ever so slightly:

1) An email exchange with Mary-In-Law on the occasion of her birthday:

Me: Mother Mary, remember to do something unruly today.
Mary: I took your advice. Well, actually, I did the opposite. I bought a girdle.
Me: (After wiping sprayed coffee from monitor and keyboard) Niiiiice.

2) A conversation over lunch at the wedding shower, during which Mother Mary made the following announcement:

Mary: (To a table of newly acquainted women) I bought a girdle.

I’m seriously having difficulty containing my fluids around this woman. Have never met anyone with enough class to pull off an announcement like that without batting an eyelash.

3) A conversation with Traci-In-Law shortly after the engagement:

Me: So what do you think you’ll wear?
Traci: Anything that doesn’t have shoulder pads.
Me: What color?
Traci: Anything but peach or pink.
Me: How do you feel about a burlap sack?
Traci: It would be better than shoulder pads, peach or pink. I’m serious.

She could pull off a burlap sack. Really. Please see below for an apt illustration of her 'before' and 'after' powers. She could do that. Really. And she would before she'd be caught dead in shoulder pads, or peach, or pink.






4) A conversation with Becca-Bee about her short-list of dresses:

Me: So how many do you have it narrowed down to?
Becca: Two
Me: Which is your favorite?
Becca: Hmmm. Probably the red one. It’s pretty and strapless.
(Mind you, she’s texting while she’s telling me this, which only supports my theory that she is perhaps the hippest and most coordinated, color and otherwise, post-teen I know. She's Uuber Chic.)
Me: Ooooh. I was thinking strapless, too. I have a hard time keeping them up, though.
Becca: They make tape for that. (Still texting)
Jen: Oh. Right. Then I’ll be fine. Does it come in ten-yard rolls?

An interesting side-note here is that Becca-Bee is daughter to Mary-In-Law. It has come to my attention, while transcribing these conversations, that both girls have a ‘beyond pedestrian’ knowledge of the art of containing unruly body parts. Must schedule a conference.

5) One email exchange with Emmy (out of 10 bazillion) in which we send links to each other with dresses we like for the Big Day:

Me: (See, I DO always start it!) So what did you think? The silver one or the aqua? I’m saving my bottle returns for one of those two.
Emmy: I love the aqua, but we only get five cents on bottle deposits out here so I think that one’s out for me.
Me: But it has pockets!!!! POCKETS!
Emmy: And?
Me: And you know, at the end of the night, when all the drunken guests wander home and leave behind their party favors, like fudge and candy? Well I’ll be WAY prepared if I have POCKETS.
Emmy: Yeah, but I can SO see you forgetting that your TWO HUNDRED DOLLAR POCKETS are chocked full of fudge and letting it melt all over you.
Me: Oh. Yeah. What if I lined them with plastic wrap?
Emmy: Okay, the aqua one it is, then. (If this conversation had taken place face-to-face, I feel fairly certain that this is the point where she would have given me THE LOOK.)
Me: Sweet. POCKETS. So, now, what shoes would you wear with that dress? Green, purple?

I believe Emmy lost connection with her server around this juncture, as I did not hear back from her for the rest of the day.

6) An email exchange with the Bride.

Me: So what are the wedding colors?
Bride: Black and pink.
Me: So, would you prefer that we wear those colors?
Bride: Wear whatever you want, just as long as you’re there.
Me: So, white's okay, then?

I belive Steph (the bride) also lost connection with her server at this point.

6) A conversation that took place in my imagination with a very, very dear woman in the family that will be attending the wedding in spirit.

Me: So, I was thinking I would wear. . . . and then I could wear. . . and then I wouldn’t have to. . . .and I found a really good deal. . . and I could SO wear it again. . . and (twenty minutes and forty-five dresses later). Sooooo, what do you think?
Gramm: HUSHIE BUSHIE.

I will abbreviate this transcription (yes, I said abbreviate) by not listing the conversations I have had with my sisters, and my mom, and my fashion-savvy friend Jenn, and my boss, and the person who waters the plants at my office. . .

Instead, I’ll skip right to a conversation with the person with whom I myself shared vows— EIGHT years prior.

7) The inevitable conversation I will have with him if I actually muster the brazen courage necessary to buy the aqua dress, pop bottles or no:

Husbee: Oh. You look pretty. Where’d ya get that?
Me: Hmm?
Husbee: I said, Where’d ya get that? The dress. I’ve never seen that before.
Me: This ole’ thing? Hey, look, it has pockets. That means I can carry all your man-gear for you. Isn’t that awesome?
Husbee: Your tactical diversions can mean only one thing.
Me: Hmm?
Husbee: And that is that we no longer own the deed to this house because you have traded it for one aqua-hued pocket-adorned dress.
Me: Hmm? Oh, hey, give me your keys let me see if they fit. How about your phone, and your . . .(slowly backing away) Oh Good God, PLEASE don’t kill me.
Husbee: Let me see the TAG.
Me: Hmm?
Husbee: (Diving for one fast-moving aqua-colored target) Gimme THE TAG.
Me: (Nimble, but not fast enough) Lemme GO!! YOU’LL MUSS ME UP!


So, in conclusion, I guess this means that if you see me at the wedding and I happen to be wearing an aqua-colored garb (did I mention it has pockets?), you might check me for scratch marks or to see if I’m still wearing my wedding band. But if it’s missing, it IS possible that it just got lost in one of the pockets. And, also, if any of you would be willing to let me hold-up at your place till this dress shenanigan blows over, that would be great.

In all seriousness, the dress talk is fun, and plentiful, but it’s also, when I look back over these conversations, one more thing I have had the opportunity to share with really amazing women—all of whom I gained via the afore mentioned wedding band. That said, I will probably not buy that dress and, instead, keep the band, and the man attached, and his wonderful family. Cannot wait to share another monumental event with you all.

To the Bride and Groom . . .And to looking forward to one FANTASTIC night. . .And to many more conversations. . . And to lots more weddings. . . And to pockets.