I, like everyone else, have received my fair share of Save the Dates and wedding invitations. I have kept precisely 0 of them. Now that I am planning my own wedding stationery, I am rather appalled at how insanely expensive this stuff is. A couple could easily spend thousands of dollars designing, printing, and sending out their stationery. That's a lot of scratch for stuff that inevitably ends up in the trash.
While I am planning on going a more traditional route for the invitations, I figured I'd have fun with the Save the Dates, because why the heck not? There are lots of amazing ideas floating around the internet for creative Save the Dates.
Co-opted scene from "The Graduate" Save the Dates? Uh huh.
Crossword puzzle Save the Dates? 1 across: three letters; an affirmative answer
Insane indie-rock stop-motion animation Save the Dates? Got it.
Basically the possibilities are endless. But one day as I was perusing the internet (as I am wont to do), I ended up finding an artist on etsy who was advertising custom comic book Save the Dates. They were a fair price, we'd be directly supporting and working with the artist, and they were freaking awesome. I floated the idea by Austin, and we were sold.
I ended up contacting the artist, Mark Welser, in early February. We told him our story, interests, backgrounds, etc. I told him my hope to integrate Chicago, our dog, and Godzilla, and he was more than up for the challenge. After many emails, pictures, and sketches back and forth, we finally have our very own Save the Dates:
I think he did a pretty incredible job capturing us (and Godzilla), don't you? They're currently being made into magnets, and will start going out next month. I'm suuuuuuper excited!
You can see more of Mark's very imaginative Save the Dates on his facebook album.
Dresses, dresses. Clearly the most important decision a bride can make (besides her groom!) is her dress. This is a pretty important decision, since you (hopefully) only get one shot to get it right.
The most beautiful bride of them all, Grace Kelly.
I know many women dream of their wedding dress for years and years--I am not one of those women. But as soon as I got engaged I knew I had to get it into gear and figure out what I want. For months I have been tearing out pages from myriad bridal magazines and saving picture after picture from wedding sites. It became pretty clear that I like the following:
fit and flare (aka trumpet aka mermaid) silhouettes:
"Cincinnati" by Blue by Enzoani
structured, asymmetric gowns:
"Berta" by Carolina Herrera
vintage inspired gowns:
"Morgan" by Priscilla of Boston, Vineyard Collection (maybe the most perfect gown ever?)
Now, as nice as it would be to spend $4000 on a Priscilla of Boston gown, I just don't have that kind of scratch. I instead focused my search on the designers in the $1000-$1500 range, such as Allure, Justin Alexander, and Blue by Enzoani. There is a single store that I could find in Chicago that carries all of these designers, so it was a no brainer where I would head once the time came. As we just passed the 200 day mark, the time was this weekend.
On Saturday, my two loyal Chicago bridesmaids accompanied me an hour outside the city to Tinley Park, IL, where the three of us embarked upon this adventure together. Since none of us had ever been on a wedding gown shopping trip before, we weren't entirely sure what to expect. What did we find? Lots and lots and lots of white, poofy dresses (and bored family members).
Where to start?
With a consultant assigned to help me and the mantra "nothing in fashion, nothing out of style," I began pulling and nixing gowns to try on. The consultant was actually really good a pulling dresses that fit my sensibility, and I really did like almost all of the gowns I tried on.
But one gown stood out.
In fact, it was one of the very first gowns that caught my eye in the very first bridal gowns that I bought. I showed it to my 'maids on the way to the store and said I was hoping to try it on. When we walked into the store, guess what was hanging up behind the front desk? Yep, that dress.
I tried it on, I loved it, my 'maids loved it, the consultant loved it, even the bored woman waiting for her niece loved it. ("It's the best one," she said, slightly surly.) And the price? It fit my budget to the penny. So, I bought it. I did. I still can't believe it, and have kind of been freaking out since then. As soon as I bought it, doubt started creeping in. Can I really pull off a tea-length gown? I mean, I like how they look, but I always pictured myself in a dress with a train. I also worry that it's not "bridey" enough, and that I will miss my one-in-a-lifetime chance to wear a completely insanely stunning wedding dress.
The biggest sliver of doubt has been caused by a rogue contender:
The gown is originally $4000 but is being resold for a fraction of the price. It needs a cleaning and will most likely need a teeny bit of alteration, which placed it solidly outside of my budget. But THEN, when I told my mom about my predicament, she and my dad offered to help out so I could get the 2nd dress! Now what am I supposed to do?!
Honestly, every time I think about either gown I feel a little sick to my stomach. Who knows whether I will ever feel that I made the right decision, or if it's even possible to really feel that way. Talking to a recently married friend about the situation did help me feel a little better. Here's her advice:
I'm going to tell you two things: DON'T doubt your dress! If that means you return this for the other, OK. But the other thing I'm going to tell you is, at the end of the day, it's just a dress. I loved my dress, but part of me felt like I rushed into it just because I hated the whole dress buying process and was so super stressed about it. In reality I don't think I needed to spend as much as I did--but every time we see a bridal store, I think about how much I want another, different dress! You're not going to stop wanting a wedding dress just because you get married. You're always going to see pretty dresses and think, why didn't I find that? (Better to do that with dresses than grooms.) And you will look like a bride, because you'll BE the bride!
Sage advice, indeed. And now, dear readers, I ask for your advice. What the heck do you think I should do?
Over the weekend, my old roommate and I were watching "Singin' in the Rain" for the 1000th time when I got a text from one of my bridesmaids:
This of course was followed by several emails and a lengthy skype conversation the following day, where I learned such details as her wedding date (THIS Labor Day!), where they are getting married (his hometown), her wedding color (ALSO purple), and her fiancé's name (Mike. Whoops).
Being in a position to dole out any sort of advice at all about wedding planning is a pretty novel idea to me, but there I was, talking with a good friend with an even tighter schedule than I have, advising her on the books, magazines, and sites that have garnered the most useful information for me. At the top of the list? "The Knot Book of Wedding Lists," brought to you by the wedding gurus behind The Knot franchise.
Your average 7-year-old girl reading up on recent wedding trends.
When I first knew I was getting engaged, I browsed through the wedding section at countless bookstores and bought nothing. There are several reasons for this. First, I am not the sort of girl who has dreamed about her wedding since she was five, and so any book that either states that directly or implies it on the first page is immediately out. (Believe me, this gets rid of about 80% of them.) Second, a lot of them had information or advice that I have no use for, such as hiring the perfect wedding planner (no), planning a destination wedding (does it count if both of our families are traveling here?), or other froofy crap I just do not care about. What mainly interested me were the DIY books, which are somewhat helpful but never seemed to have enough ideas in them that I would use to warrant a purchase. Why should I buy a book for just 1 or 2 crafts when I can look up ALL the crafts I want for free online? Soin the end, the one and only book I did buy is one that is completely utilitarian. No froofy crap, no lovey dovey stuff, no hearts, doves, nothing. Just lists of stuff that wedding neophytes such as myself would never have thought of. And I love it.
Don't worry, I left the bookstore with plenty of material: piles of bridal magazines. I don't know why, but I've always had an addiction to magazines. Something about flipping through page after glossy, colorful page sparks my imagination. At the suggestion of an engaged Borders employee who was commiserating with me on the sorry state of bridal books, I purchased an accordion folder and have been cutting out every page or image that speaks to me. By now my inspiration folder is looking pretty impressive, and it's also really interesting to me to see how clearly I favor a certain style or look. For example, I didn't have a clear idea for a hairstyle, but checking the "hair" category of my ideas folder proved me wrong. Almost every single image I pulled for that section is the same style. Who knows how long it would have taken me to figure that out otherwise! D: (And, for the record, the magazines I've found most helpful so far are Chicago Brides and Martha Stewart Weddings.)
For some reason this hairstyle keeps showing up in my "inspiration folder"...
So, how's about those helpful links? We all know about the big ones (The Knot,Brides, Martha Stewart Weddings), and these all have TONS of useful information and ideas. But there is a website I've been using quite a bit recently called Wedding Bee. It's basically the cutest wedding site ever, and features several brides blogging about their upcoming nuptials. There are also pretty extensive forums for brides to share their tips and tricks. The best part is how DIY-heavy the site is, and how these women make it seem their projects seem, well, do-able. No offense to Martha Stewart, who is clearly a master of the trade, but her projects can be a little ... out of my reach. (See: DIY Wedding Cakes) But seeing a bride just like me cutting and gluing and drawing and folding and creating? Ah, now that's just the sort of inspiration I need.
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?
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.
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?
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.
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.
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."
