dress envy

I love my dress. I do.

And no, this entry does not (I repeat: not) include a picture of it. It does, however, include [above] a picture of another dress by my [ahhh...sounds like I own her] dress designer, Vwidon. Vwidon is a delightful little boutique in Chicago recommended by my friend (and future Vwidon-dress-wearer) Kate. When I put on my dress, it was the most comfortable darn thing I'd had on all day (in a long day of trying on torture chambers known as wedding gowns), and I simply did not want to take it off. So I can't wait to put it back on in six months and dance around in it for 12 or so hours. Till then, however, it's just a bolt of fabric somewhere in Vwidon's studio, waiting to be made (to my hopefully shrinking measurements).

In the meantime, I torture myself with pictures of other wedding dresses. Usually I can easily discard them, and note why it is I don't like them. Why my dress is superior. Usually.

Till today.

When I suffered my first bout of "dress envy."

It came upon suddently. On {ritzy bee blog}. And this was the dress:

And this was the beautiful bride it adorned:

And now I wish I could show You a picture of my dress so that You could validate my decision that my dress is superior [for me]. But since I can't [there must be some element of surprise!], I'm left to my own tortured, conflicted thoughts... and suddenly sad [for the first time ever in this wedding planning process] that one of the items on the Wedding To Do List is crossed off... [You see, usually I check things off with glee!] Because what if. What if...

Note to self: Stop looking at dresses. Stop. Looking. At. The. Ritzy Bee Dress.

Repeat to self: I love my dress. I do.

deeesiiiiiiiiiiiire

My throat is closing...

*can't breathe*

...because this ring (courtesy of Vera Wang) is so bloody beautiful... It's no wonder it's making the rounds on the bride-blog circuit (Snippet & Ink....Coco + Kelley...) it's absolutely delicious.

And man would it look great in my Irish green wedding... On my right hand....Ah, diamonds and emeralds... the stuff [my] dreams are made of.

fall

Red leaves/ 香山红叶
Originally uploaded by Luo Shaoyang

...The Fiancé calls Fall "the season of death." Yes. Well. It's not for everyone, I guess.

I, on the other hand, *used to* like Fall.

A couple of things have changed my love of Fall: (1) I moved to Chicago, where Fall is just a precursor to Winter. Which is painfully cold, windy and decidedly unfun. (2) I suffer (seriously) from a decreased love of shopping. The latter, I believe, is directly related to the fact that it's now my own money that must be used to purchase new 'school clothes', as opposed to, oh, say, Mom & Dad's. Given that my affection for the season was largely related to the new clothes purchased in anticipation of falling temps, and the fact that I have zero new clothes this year (ok, well, two shirts and one sweater. Oh, and a pair of shoes... but they don't count...), equals Fall stinks.

Now it's just cold. And I have to wear the same stuff from last year. And, like The Fiancé says, everything is dying. I was reminded of this on our drive down to Indy this weekend, which, granted, was beautiful, but also an unavoidable annoucement that soon the trees would be bare. And frankly, it just made me feel cold. And unstylish.

*long pause followed by deep sigh*

Maybe I will suffer through and go do a little shopping after all. I mean, the economy needs my helpful stimulus, right? I'm doing it for the country.

40 years

This weekend The Fiancé and I are heading to my hometown to celebrate my parents' 40th wedding anniversary. I've always felt ridiculously lucky and blessed to have parents who have not only stayed together, but who also seem to really like each other, even after 40 years (or 47, as my mother would correct me, as how can I forget the years of dating through high school and college?!).

Mums (gold) were their flower. By all accounts, the weather that day was gorgeous. My uncle walked my mother down the aisle, because her father had passed away earlier that same year. Their reception was at the American Legion Hall. It was held in the afternoon, with a buffet, no dance. They had a fancy white wedding cake decorated with green and gold, and a chocolate groom's cake. The bridesmaids wore green. Afterwards, my grandmother re-opened my grandfather's bar for evening revelers. According to my mother, they refrained from telling anyone where they were living after the wedding, lest the bed in their new apartment be short-sheeted. They hid their car a town away to avoid it being decorated with beer cans and crepe paper. My father sported black-rimmed glasses and slicked back hair. My mother, a bouffant. He was 23. She, 21.

I love the fact that I will marry my husband 40 years and 6 months after my own parents were wed. I don't know what our flower will be yet, but in April, it won't be mums. The reception will be in a grand, old, gold ballroom in one of the oldest hotels in Indiana. I can't wait for everyone to dance. Even before I heard the details of my parents' wedding [my mothers always been stogy with the pictures], I'd chosen the color green. I want a white cake. And a chocolate (Guinness shaped...?) grooms cake. We're staying in a different, undisclosed, location the night of our wedding to avoid party crashers [who knew we'd be copying my parents in this decision as well!]. My father will probably wear contacts when he walks me down the aisle. And The Fiancé and I will be a ripe *young* age of 31 and 30, respectively.

There is a symbolism and awesomeness that warms my Irish superstitions in being married 40 years after my parents. I wonder when our own children will marry, and where we'll be 40 years from now? As tumultuous as the times we're in right now may seem, how will this year be viewed through the lens of hindsight? Consider the lens through which we can now view the year my parents were married:

On January 14, the Green Bay Packers won Super Bowl II. [Go Pack!]

The Vietnam War was in full force. In fact, on February 13, civil rights disturbances occurred at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, miles from where my parents lived.

On March 16, U.S. Senator Robert F. Kennedy (D-NY) entered the race for the Democratic Party presidential nomination. Three months later, on June 5, he was shot. He died from his injuries the next day.

On April 4, Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot dead. Riots erupted in major American cities for several days afterward.

On April 11, U.S. President Lyndon B. Johnson signs the Civil Rights Act of 1968. [Look how far we've come!]

Amazingly, on July 17, Saddam Hussein became Vice Chairman of the Revolutionary Council in Iraq, after a coup d'état. [His star would rise and reign until December 13, 2003, when he is finally captured by U.S. forces.

On July 25 [my birthday, incidentally], Pope Paul VI published the encyclical entitled Humanae Vitae, condemning birth control. Many American Catholics defy it [then and now...].

On September 7, 150 women protested against the Miss America Pageant, as exploitative of women. It is one of the first large demonstrations of Second Wave Feminism. [Today, we have a former pageant queen running for Vice President.]

On October 12 (the very day my parents were married!), the Games of the XIX Olympiad begin in Mexico City, Mexico. [Forty years later, we celebrated the Olympics in China.]

On November 5, Republican challenger Richard M. Nixon defeats Vice President Hubert Humphrey and American Independent Party candidate George C. Wallace in the U.S. presidential election. [In less than one month, we again have an opportunity to elect our next President.]

In retrospect, it's amazing to me so many things happened in one year. I simply think of 1968 as the year my parents married each other and began what today is my family. So, this weekend we celebrate. Not just a wedding. But 40 years of life together. And for all the fun I poke at the wedding process, I wouldn't have it any other way. Because there are certain events from 1968 that I will gladly emulate. A marriage that spans over 40 years is one of them.

project wedding!

Last night on Bravo was a bride's dream...Not only was it the first of two finalé episodes of Project Runway [best. show. ever], but the competitors were charged with designing a wedding gown AND a bridesmaid dress [*squeal of joy*].

[An aside: If you haven't watched Project Runway, this season especially, I'm not sure we can be friends. But, anyway, we'll move on...]

To date, Korto has been my favorite this season... thus, I was insanely disappointed that she came up with these sad little brown numbers for her dresses... ew. I was expecting something much more from my reality-tv-crush. Thank the Lord she survived to show her collection next week, but looking at these dresses, I'm not entirely sure she should have...

Next was Leanne, who frankly annoys the crap out of me, but this episode, I must confess her dresses were spectacular. I mean, I would actually wear them. Both. A couple times. *Love* Sadly, I couldn't find a nice pic of her bridesmaid dress online, but take my word that it was darling (though a bit of a crap color, but we'll let that one slide). The wedding gown was re-donk-u-lous:

Then. There was Kenley. I can authoritatively say if I knew her in real life, we would not be friends. This child is just too mean for words sometimes. And lacking of any graciousness [she said, "I know," when Tim complimented her apartment. The normal person would say "Thank you."]. But, whatever. Her designs last night rocked my little wedding world. I would never wear them [see, Leanne, above, for what I would wear...], but there was no arguing with the fact that her stuff was stunning. Stunning. Who cares if she ripped off Alexander McQueen. In my opinion, her stuff was better. And look at that darling bridesmaid dress. *sigh*

Last (and least), there was Jerell. Oh, Jerell. He wants to channel Austin Scarlett, I think. Sadly, he does not. Flowers on the head?! Really??? His dresses could be amazing... but in the end I think they just look sloppy. Would You ever make your bridesmaid wear that wrinkly little mess of green?!
Which, in the end, is why Jerell checked out last night. Anyway, given this wedding diversion, I can hardly wait for next week's finalé part deux... How can you top a feather wedding gown, after all?!

not like grama's

Last night, I discovered a jar of applesauce The Fiancé had in the refrigerator. I decided to sample it as a new dessert option, in my effort to be healthy (read: effort not to eat ice cream). Gleeful in my discovery of something that was both wholesome and sweet in my own kitchen, imagine my disappointment upon the discovery that Motts is absolutely nothing - I mean nothing - like what Grama used to make.

This led to my declaration to The Fiancé that we need to add items to our registry that will enable me to make homemade applesauce. I don't know what those items might be, but I seem to recall some sort of grinder-contraption being needed to mash the apples (upon my explanation of this, The Fiancé looked at me like I was coo-coo; I could almost see his mind reeling at the vision of me, in a kitchen, with fancy grinding tools, trying to make something edible). I ignored his incredulous stares and continued with my illustration of why Motts is deficient and why I need to learn to make yummy, not watery, delicious homemade applesauce.

To which he responded (after decrying the irony of a woman who at lunch was learning about how to improve and reform the civil justice system in Chicago now wanting to learn how to mash fruit), "You know there are store-bought options out there other than Motts, that are made to taste more like homemade, right?"

Me: "What...?!"

Why didn't he just say so? Screw the grinder. What, did he think I wanted to be domesticated or something? As if.

i wish We wore hats

...because what is more darling than these beautiful pics from my increasingly-beloved-photography-site, Lillian and Leonard, of wedding attendees in hats?! These are from across the Pond, so they look natural. Put our American guests in hats, and suddenly it looks ridiculous. So sad. Because I LOVE hats [I will endeavor to dig up a little ditty from my childhood wherein I attempted to wear mutliple hats...at once... and not much else...]

For instance, there's Happy Hat:

Hats in church!

Little happy curly-que-almost-a-hat

and last but not least, Big hat + little person

*sigh* I wish hats were as prized over Here as they are in Lillian and Leonard's world... I for, one, would be all for it!

as good as a piece of string around my finger...

I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed by this planning process [to those who know me outside this blog, this is a shocking revelation, I know...]. My type A personality is struggling to relinquish control of any detail whatsoever, yet it's the details that are driving me mad (what color green for the paper... crest or no crest... black ribbon or green... necklace or brooch...ahahaha it goes on and on... into my dreams, I swear...!) I chanced upon this little pendant on Etsy, and am thinking I would do well by sewing it onto my bouquet. Because, frankly, if I'm this stressed with six months to go, I can only imagine what will befall me on April 18, 2009. A not-so-subtle reminder to myself might be well taken...

hooray for the nineteenth amendment

Just a reminder that there was a time, not so long ago, where some of Us didn't enjoy the right to vote. Lucky for Us, times have changed. All that is moot, however, if you neglect to register. [In that case, you might as well live in Brunei.]

Please note: in some states, the deadline for registering to vote is soon. As in, the next couple of days. If you don't register, you can't vote.

There are plenty of ways to register online, and look! You're already online!

Learn about your state HERE.

Register HERE or HERE.

the things we do for friends

This weekend I'm off to visit two of my dearest friends from law school. And in between reminiscing, enjoying wine, going to a dog blessing [don't ask, because I couldn't explain it if I wanted to], vetting one's new boyfriend [we'll be nice, I promise...], we shall also be going bridesmaid dress shopping. Oh, You lucky lucky girls! I can hardly wait! Cross Your fingers we find some lovely options, lest we have to dig out numbers like those above...

At least I'll look pretty.