Questions, Questions

Sorry for the brief hiatus, but it turns out that when you get engaged, everyone suddenly wants to hang out with you! Shocking, I know. It has been really nice to see so many friends and talk about the details of the wedding that I thought no one would be interested in. Since I had been secretly planning this wedding since October, I had lost a lot of steam by the time we got engaged. I already felt like I was over it. But the genuine happiness and excitement shown by our friends and family blew me away and rekindled my own excitement. Yay!

The most popular question so far has been about the wedding colors. Go figure. It was pretty easy for us to settle on the main color, which is purple. Austin loves his alma mater (Northwestern) and wears Wildcat purple whenever the occasion calls for it. On game days he can be seen sporting a purple hat, purple shirt, purple shoes, and yes, even purple jeans which he bought in Japan. (In full game-day gear Austin is known to refer to himself as Grimace's anorexic brother.) I also love me some purple, hence my purple glasses, so that was a given. But what about the secondary colors? I know that grays and yellows are quite popular in the wedding scene this year, and though I'm not usually one to jump on the trend wagon, I quite like how they look with purple. So they were also chosen. All together, this is our color palette in all its glory:

The *second* most popular question has been regarding the bridesmaid dresses. I once heard someone say that the style nerve runs through a woman's ring finger, since whenever women get engaged all sense of style seems to fly out of the window. I have always been determined never to be That Bride. 

I was fortunate enough to have heard a completely unabashed rundown on bridesmaid dresses from one of my bridesmaids before Austin and I had announced our engagement. She had to find a dress for her sister's wedding and the only instruction she had was that it had to be blue. My 'maid was frustrated by the lack of direction, and didn't want to have to end up at David's Bridal, the thought of which brings shudders to bridesmaids nationwide. In talking with her, I learned a lot. For example, bridesmaids like to have choice but need direction. They are also over strapless dresses, want something that is actually flattering, and, most important, want a dress they can actually wear again. So where on earth could I find the holy grail of dress shops for the most important women in my life? 

Etsy.

That's right, etsy came to the rescue. After looking through dozens of clothing websites and bridal magazines and nixing everything, I ended up finding a the perfect dress shop (Heart My Closet) on etsy. Now all my 'maids can choose between 2 dozen classy, flattering dresses and have it made in the exact same color of purple. Some examples:

And the third most popular question? Whether our dog, Biggles, is going to be in the wedding. 

While he *does* have a purple tie (see above), we think we'll let him stay at home with a sitter. As much as we love our dog, we figured that have him marking his territory on all of the church pews would not endear us to the pastor much. He can be a pretty excitable little fellow in crowds, and though it would be adorable to have Austin's little nephew walk Biggles down the aisle, the image of Biggles bolting and children flying through the air keeps running through my mind. So no, Biggles is not coming to the wedding, but he'll be happy at home with a rope toy and many doggy treats, knowing somewhere in his little doggy brain that mommy and daddy are getting married and making him a legitimate child once and for all.

On a Bicycle Built for Two

Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do

I'm half crazy all for the love of you

It won't be a stylish marriage--

I can't afford a carriage

But you'd look sweet upon the seat

Of a bicycle built for two

As a little girl, I remember often singing the chorus of "Daisy Bell," the classic song played in the above video. I always loved the image of riding away from a wedding on a bicycle built for two. There's something inherently romantic in a tandem bike, the idea that no matter your destination, you are getting there together and only through combined efforts.

Now THAT'S what I call a bicycle built for two!

I am clearly not the only one enchanted by the idea of a bicycle wedding. Flip through any bridal magazine and you'll be greeted by at least a half dozen ads incorporating brides, grooms, and bikes. What is it about bicycles that so captures the romantic spirit? And when did this idea start?

A modern take by Sincerity Bridal

Slogging through the internet provided me with a few fragmented answers. For example, I was able to find a magazine cover from a French periodical depicting a bicycle wedding processional from 1909, but not many other images from the turn of the century. Turning to news periodicals was somewhat more fruitful. I found a few articles from the early 1900s and even a few from the 1890s. What becomes clear is that it was the invention of the safety bicycle in the late 1880s, which was far more accommodating for women, that facilitated the bicycle wedding trend.

Le Petit Journal, 25 April 1909; "Mariage en Bicyclette"

Of the articles I found, the earliest was from the March 22nd, 1894, issue of The New York Times, entitled "Rode to Their Wedding on Bicycles." It describes the wedding of Charles Bader, "a well-known Newark wheelman," to Violet Hervey. The couple apparently rode to the local Reverend's house, went in, got married, and went on their merry way. Clearly a fluff piece, but odd enough at the time to warrant a space in the paper!

Two other articles I liked include "Bicycle Wedding at Rahway," from the Sept. 6, 1897 issue of The New York Times, which describes an impromptu wedding where the bride and groom arrived on separate bikes and left on a tandem, and "A Bicycle Romance" from the Feb. 17, 1901 issue (exactly 110 years ago TODAY!) of The New York Times, which describes how the couple spotted each other at a cycling event and the "skill of each excited the admiration of the other, and the couple fell in love before they fairly realized the fact." Sounds pretty familiar! (Also, thanks for archiving your stuff, NYTimes!!!!!)

My favorite article by far, however, is this gem brought to you by the April 1897 edition of the Evening Post:

It goes without saying that Austin and I will be integrating bikes into our wedding, though we haven't quite decided on the extent. He's all for riding to the ceremony and reception, but the idea of getting my very beautiful (and very expensive) wedding dress dirty or torn makes me cringe, so I am heavily lobbying for the use of pedicabs. More on those developments as they arise! But for now, time for this bike bride to get her beauty sleep.

Hearts in Tandem

For those of you who know us, the reasoning behind name of this blog seems obvious enough. Austin and I are urban bikers and have been for several years. We don't own cars and manage to ride pretty much year-round. But some of you might not know that we actually met on bikes, so I thought I'd take this Valentine's Day post to explain more about the blog name, and about first meeting, which should reassure you that our relationship isn't *completely* unromantic. For as unromantic as the proposal may have been, I think we have a great how-we-met story.

Celebrating the end of yet another successful Critical Mass.

It all started with Critical Mass. To steal a quick explanation from Wikipedia:

The first ride ... took place on Friday, September 25, 1992 at 6 p.m. in San Francisco. At that time, the event was known as Commute Clot and was composed of a couple of dozen cyclists who had received flyers on Market Street.

Shortly after this, some participants in that ride went to a local bicycle shop for a screening of Ted White's documentary Return of the Scorcher, about bike culture overseas. That film noted that in China, both motorists and bicyclists had an understood method of negotiating intersections without signals. Traffic would "bunch up" at these intersections until the backlog reached a "critical mass," at which point that mass would move through the intersection. That term from the movie was applied to the ride, and the name caught on, replacing "Commute Clot" by the time of the second event.

By the time of the fourth ride, the number of cyclists had increased to around 100 and participation continued to grow dramatically, reaching about 1,000 riders, on average. It is estimated that there are Critical Mass-type rides in more than 325 cities to date.

Here in Chicago, Critical Mass meets on the last Friday of every month at Daley Plaza. The rides often have themes (May Day! Save our Schools! Halloween!) and competing maps. In the summer months the rides swell to several thousand people which can get quite unwieldy, but fun nonetheless.

An example of a Chicago Critical Mass map, from 9/2007

However, in 2007 some folks in the bike community decided to start neighborhood rides as well, on the first Friday of each month. The very first Wicker Park Critical Mass was on the first Friday of September, 2007. I decided to go because one of my friends was going. It was pouring rain until about 30 minutes before the ride, but in the end I went and hoped the skies would stay clear. Austin also came with some of his friends, who were celebrating their 6-month anniversary. As a resident of the 'hood and a Critical Mass enthusiast, it was only fitting that he join the maiden ride.  

     

Us on the day we met, on the beginning of the ride.

As it turned out, the weather was perfect, and the ride itself was very relaxed and fun. I was snapping pictures when Austin rode up beside me and struck up a conversation. The ride ended at an art exhibition, and after we looked at the art we decided to get drinks at a fancy beer bar. We drank, we talked, we kissed, and as it turned out, we both had tickets to the same exact concert the next day, where we met again, drank again, talked again, and kissed again. I could go on and on, but you get the idea. As we learned more about each other, the astonishing thing seemed not to be that we met at all, but that we didn't meet much sooner.

In the end, there really isn't such a thing as a perfect engagement, perfect marriage, perfect meeting, perfect anything. What really matters is that it's perfect for you. So far, so good.

Happy Valentine's Day

An Indecent Proposal

I'm not the kind of girl who used to daydream about her engagement or wedding or what have you. Did I wonder about my future husband? Sure. But the details never interested me much. Happiness, love, family, those are things that captured my imagination, which based on how this engagement came about, is probably for the best.

Skywriting? Too obvious.

We all hear of those really crazy, out-there proposals. Airplanes writing "Marry Me" in smoke, men getting down on one knee during large sporting events, or pulling out a ring on national television. The sorts of public-forum proposals that make me cringe. Then there are those... uh... even more special sort of proposals. I actually have a friend who proposed to his future (ex) wife over a tin of Altoids, proclaiming that they were "mint" for each other, and he was prepared to make a "commit-mint" to her. I have another acquaintance who was proposed to over breakfast. No, literally over breakfast. When the waiter brought her the scrambled eggs, the ring was there along with "will you marry me?" written in ketchup. Thankfully we did not have one of those engagements.

Candy? Too saccharine. 

No, it's pretty hard to surprise a woman who has designed her own ring and knows when it's ready. Austin very wisely asked me for a deadline, and I gave him until Valentines Day to pop the question. He agreed. I assumed he'd do it on the 14th since, well, it is The Most-Romantic Day. So on Thursday (2/10), when he asked me if he could make dinner for us, I was so completely shocked that he wanted to cook that I didn't even consider he might be planning to pop the question. That is until after he asked me about the contents of our larder (soy sauce? yes. mozzarella? no.), at which point he told me he was taking the dog for a walk, going grocery shopping, then giving me the ring. Oh.

The rest of the night pretty much went just like that. He poured us some nice beer (which, for Austin, is romantic) and then presented me with a small bag with the name of the jeweler on it. Years worth of romantic movie scenes ran through my head. Would he get down on one knee? Is this the moment that he finally asks me to be his wife? Would he tell me how much I mean to him? How he wants to spend every night falling asleep with me and waking up next to me? How he wants me to be the mother of his children and grow old with him?

Nope.

"Well, here it is. They asked me if I wanted it gift wrapped so I said OK." I took the bag from his hand and pulled out the tiny, nicely-wrapped box. I started pulling up the corners of the paper when Austin interjected. "You don't have to worry about ripping the paper or anything. It's not like we're going to reuse it." Sigh. My images of a romantic, heart-felt proposal were pretty much dashed at this point, so I looked at him and asked, "That's it?" "Oh yeah, uh, will you marry me?" I honestly don't remember whether I responded. Instead I opted to open the black-velvet box and look at the ring. It was beautiful.

Click to enlarge and gaze upon the shiny!

After I made him put it on my finger ("well I've never proposed to anyone before!"), we made the calls, wrote the emails, and made it facebook official. Even though the giving of the ring was less-than-ideal, I'm not too bothered. In the end the deed was done, and we are officially engaged. (To his credit, Austin insists that I'm the one that proposed waaaay back in October, and I can't say I entirely disagree.)

I imagine that years from now, grandchildren sitting on my lap, I will be asked, "Grandma, how did grandpa propose?" At that point, I will look lovingly on my ring and answer, "I don't remember."

Ring-a-Ding

Welcome to yet another wedding blog! Yay! I decided to create this after compiling images and ideas in secret for the last four months while my fiance, Austin, and I had a ring commissioned. So why not start at the beginning?

Austin and I had been together for the better part of 3 years when I started getting The Itch. As lovable as Austin is, he's not the sort of man who would think of marriage without some prompting, and like most men has little-to-no knowledge of engagement ring style. After a few sleepless nights imagining being presented with a 2nd-hand heart-shaped cubic zirconia on a silver band 10 years from now, I decided it would be best to take matters into my own hands.

Not my dream ring.

One night as we were lying in bed I decided to strike.

"Baby?"
"Yeah?"
"If you were to buy me something... uh... shiny, can I send you some images of shiny things I like?"
"....sure."

Yesssss! I knew I was in. At this point I had already begun perusing rings but wasn't in love with anything in particular. I just assumed I'd find something online that I liked and that would be the end of it. Once I started looking in earnest though, the idea of ordering a very expensive jewel through the internet seemed like a pretty sketchy idea, since the ring I liked the best so far I had found on ebay. Now we all know that ebay is great for things like $1 DVDs from China, but for fine jewelry, not so much. I then shifted my focus to looking for a jeweler here in Chicago. As before, I let Austin know of this change of plans after the lights were out. I took his snoring as a confirmation that I could continue with my in-person search.

My first step was yelp, a site dedicated to compiling customer reviews of various establishments across the city. If there was any way to avoid getting swindled, I figured checking with my fellow yelpers would be the best way. Since the idea of window shopping in jewelers row causes me to break out in a cold sweat, I figured searching for a smaller neighborhood jeweler would be the way to go. The first place I decided to check out was Lincoln Square's Stanley Brown Jewelist, which was a quick bike ride from where I work. They had a modest selection of rings in their store, but their inventory showed a wide range of styles and uniformly good quality. After talking with them for a while, I left with my mind filled with images of filigree rings and an appointment to return in a week to look at light-yellow diamonds. With luck I would have a ring in precious-few weeks!

Wrong.

Little did I know that I was beginning my ring quest at the height of ring-quest season: December. You see, there are these holidays called Hanukkah, Christmas, and New Years, and people tend to get engaged during this time. A lot. Also, custom designing a ring takes a lot of effort. I probably looked at hundreds of rings online before stumbling on the designs of McTeigue & McClelland, which are incredibly inspiring. The ring that I liked in particular was called the Belle Epoque Ring, which combined so many aspects I like in a ring, including a bezel setting and filigreed detailing.

Getting warmer!

What I didn't care for was the sides and band detail, so I ended up designing those parts myself. The fine people of Stanley Brown were very patient with me as I experimented with designs, and were surprisingly invested in the whole situation. I was really impressed by my whole experience there, even if it did take way longer than I was expecting. But after 4 months of visits, emails, and phone calls, my ring was finally done. Now I just had to wait for Austin to pop the question! But that is for a later post.