So this Facebook thing has really screwed up my blogging. Having an extraordinary person in my life who keeps me busy doesn’t help either. I get sucked into these stupid games, like Frontierville, because my sweet nephew talks me into playing. And then he quits playing almost immediately, leaving me to frantically harvest crap and whomp critters all by myself. I’m not proud.
Anyways, Teh Smitten and I are getting married. Next month. This is how it happened:
My sister calls after our Labor Day staycation at the Hotel Palomar in Arlington (we had a suite with a Japanese soaking tub for two – it was kind of fantastic) to see if we had gotten engaged yet. She expresses deep disappointment that we had not gotten engaged in that I’m-kidding-but-not-really sort of way. (She has been a little panicked that we might get married on the upcoming cruise in November despite my telling her repeatedly that we would not do so as it costs $2500 for a very dinky sort of to-do.) Anyway, her concern tickles me to no end and I tell Teh Smitten, who later says something like, “Well… I guess I could ruin the surprise…”
It turns out he was planning to propose on the cruise, buy the ring in St. Maarten, etc. He thought I wanted a wedding with the dress and the people, etc. Except I don’t. I want the marriage. I suggested we just go ahead and do the civil wedding thing next to file cabinets and then use the cruise as our honeymoon. He countered by suggesting a party for our friends and family in a few months and I happily agreed.
But planning the civil wedding and a small dinner with our family has ballooned a little. First, I found a dress:
$198 from Nordstom. No lie. So, I thought I’d order it and if it didn’t work, it would be a very simple thing to return. Except, it fits. Beautifully. I think it could use a little tailoring around the bust area to make sure it doesn’t gape shamefully and all. $198 and I LOVE it.
Tomorrow, my awesome minion from work, who really has become a good friend more than anything, will be headed to Nordstrom with me to meet with my personal stylist to work out a wrap, sufficient undergarments (finding a plunging bra in my size is going to be fun, and by “fun” I really mean a fucking nightmare because they don’t make plunging bras that actually provide support in a 40F), shoes, maybe a bag…
I swung by the store on my way home last night and, with the stylist’s help, picked up an ivory dress shirt, a very lovely Armani tie and pocket square for Smit, and then moseyed over to the shoe area to see if I could improve upon his current dress shoe dilemma. Why must men hold onto awful worn-out shoes? He has been quite devoted to his Bill Blass wingtips, which have seen better days. Anyways, there were a pair of Cole Hahn Nike Air technology wingtips on sale for $129. Now, if I can just convince him to “retire” the old pair.
Teh Smitten and I met at the Arlington Courthouse yesterday to pick up our marriage license and have lunch at a potential dinner venue. Getting the license was pretty painless. If Virginia allowed gay marriages it really would be a great state. We dropped the license off at the official Arlington County celebrant’s office afterward so that he could have the certificate prepared on October 23rd. He is a lovely fellow – an older gentleman who estimates he has officiated the weddings for about 54,000 couples in the last 45 years or so. Wow. His offices, not so lovely. When people say they’re getting married next to file cabinets, they’re not kidding. The officiant’s conference room is decorated in what I’d call Early 80’s Legal Office Banal. There’s a very sad looking silk flower arrangement in one corner – a nightmare of red roses in a white basket. Truly awful. At least the chairs aren’t folding chairs. And his office itself is a maze of stacks of paperwork. I can’t imagine how shocked my sister and brother-in-law will be when they compare the venue to theirs, but how much better can you do for $100 cash?
Despite my negativity towards the Wedding Industrial Complex, I find myself buying wedding favors and place cards. I’m trying to find that fine line between simple and special. It is very very hard when you have a shopping addiction. I totally see how this gets out of control very quickly. Teh Smitten gets this nervous look every time he hears me say, “Oh guess what I found today for the wedding!”
So, even if we’re only having our parents and maybe a couple friends in addition for dinner, don’t we need to have a favor of some sort? No. But I’m not letting reasonableness stop me.
I’ve ordered travertine tile magnets, sample photo on the left, from Etsy.
But it was all so easy! And then I got completely mired down in the wedding craftiness parts of Etsy, that seem to go on forever in a very Gormenghast sort of way. Its pure evil. There are personalized antique handkerchiefs, specially handmade invitation suites, apparel, headbands…
And that is when I ordered the place setting cards, as seen in the sample photo on the right for our party of approximately 15 people. So cute!!! And so very unnecessary.
We’ll be doing cupcakes instead of a wedding cake. I hear that cupcakes are passe but I don’t care. The wedding cake business is a total racket and they’re usually a dry tasteless mess. DC’s Red Velvet Cupcakery is our running favorite, and they do lovely decorations. I’ve ordered a disposable cupcake tier thingy of Amazon for it.
As for rings, we bought mine – an Art Deco estate piece circa 1925-1930 – last weekend from Pampillonia Jewelers in Dupont Circle. It is exactly what I wanted. We’re now searching for its partner for Smitty, who would also like an Art Deco look. Hopefully we will find what he wants before the wedding.
The jeweler, Richard Pampillonia, had just taken the ring out of the “cooler”, where all estate jewelry must sit for 30 days before it can be sold. He overheard that I was looking for an antique look and brought it over for us to look at. Here is a photo of me wearing the ring before it had even been shined or cleaned. It is a platinum setting with a mine cut diamond in the center, baguettes on two sides, and then about 20 teensy diamonds sprinkled around the rest of the setting.
I’m not getting a band. The ring is enough. And, yes, I’m wearing that sucker before the wedding. My mom and I had a fun 30 second argument about that until she conceded, good naturedly. It is the precious and I have become Gollum.
So, yeah. Its not really real yet. When does that happen? The night before?