A few weeks ago, and a lifetime ago it seems, Chilly and his Lovely Bride were the Rock-Stars of the Week at their wedding. The announcement was in our local newspaper. I wrote, Chilly edited, and it was pretty terse. It actually worked well, because the pictures pretty much tell the tale :
those two are just flat crazy about each other.Back, back, back in the day the announcements went into exquisite detail about everything - fabric, flower, music, parties, doodlie, doodlie, doo. Not so much anymore, at least not in our paper. I wrote us a real old-school wedding announcement, with my comments. Just between us. Don't tell.
Special to the old-school wedding newspaper....
On a fine warm evening in mid-winter,
which caused us to sweat all day, the Lovely Bride,On a fine warm evening in mid-winter,
daughter of two doting parents, married Chilly, son of two more doting parents. 
Doting bridal parents began the festivities last spring with a gala cocktail reception in the garden of their home, to introduce Chilly and the whole Chilly entourage to their dearest friends. Also, just to celebrate at home. The very closest associates, friends and family of the Bride and Chilly and the whole Ginormous Chilly family-entourage were personally invited to join the wedding festivities during the winter holidays. 
The Spencerian script invitation on a pearl white deckle-edged card was enclosed in a french, silver filigree-tissue lined envelope, ordered from the above genius Paper-Doll. Biker-Mom, the mother of the bride, on the phone, me and Paper-Doll doing the design. Do you think I would take Biker mom, my bff, into that overstimulating little space? No, this was a phone-a-friend occasion.
Each invitation was hand calligraphied, then stuffed, then stamped, then checked, then each and every one had to be licked. Yummy.
Guests entered the candlelit foyer of the church . . .Ok, this was technically before we lit the candles.... before being escorted to their seats.
Groomsmen, brothers, cousins, friends, neighbors of the bride and groom attended the groom. Apparently they were using their "phone-a-friend lifeline" too.
Their ties were not the fake pre-tied kind, but were hand-tied silk, tied by a professional bow-tier just hours before the pictures started, and that was early in their day, my friends.
They wore boutinierre's of some little white and green flower that I cannot remember the name of. (PPP says "Is it FUH-REEEEE- sha? Yes, in fact it is. Freesia. She's good.). And I ask for these bouts almost every time. By name. It's a good thing the flower guy knows what I'm talking about. And boy, he does know exactly what I'm talking about - from start to finish, every time. 
The Garden District genius-guys created a double squared candelit arch, adorned with fresh white flowers. I was absolutely obsessed with the arch being squared off, not oval, and I am so, so glad. Just saying.
The guys who created that magic actually BUILT structures to hold up all the flowers, and then lighted them to make it even more stunning. One of them wears a full-on tool belt with a power drill. I love these flower guys.
The bride carried a boquet of white parrot tulips and. . .
. . . enormous fresh lilies adorned the pews enveloping the sanctuary in the aroma of spring. The flowers were overwhelmingly beautiful. Also, smelled really good. Eau -du - matrimoniee.
Add candles. Lots. Candles = magic.
The bride was attended by her closest friends, who celebrated at a bridesmaid's luncheon, one of a whirl of parties honoring the bride. 
The bridesmaids wore Aegean blue taffeta dresses which were painstakingly ironed - with ruched bodices and ballroom skirts. So, the backstory on the dresses? OMG. 
In late summer we ordered some OTHER dresses from LOW'S and after a million phone calls, they finally told us on November 21 that the original dresses had never been ordered. I was alerted to this while in the midst of a college visit with PPP, receiving frantic text and phone brrrrppps from Bride and MOB in quick succession. This could be a serialized newspaper story called "Disasters in Wedding Planning" but it's not! It's called "Triumphs of calm problem-solving!" My calm and confident bride found herself some dresses from Saks Fifth Avenue, I tracked down the girls and their sizes, with a big help from the MATRON of Honor, a newlywed herself. 
VOILA, within days my able assistants were modeling the new dresses in the bride's bedroom over the Thanksgiving holiday. I mean seriously, that's a quick turnaround, from no dresses to 9 dresses! So, if you are looking for wedding planning hints, let me just say, LOWS - at your own risk. Universally agreed, the new dresses ROCKED. The old dresses? Don't know, because Low's didn't order them. 
The bride's hair and make-up was done by Quitman. That's Quitman, putting on the fierce make-up. Wait, is that someone ironing? Quitman was also in charge of flooofin' up the hair. 
Lovely Bride wore her hair in a bundle of cascading curls to highlight the fingertip veil of silk illusion. Also the bridesmaids, every last one of them, got curled and floofed up. And the mothers. Also, grandmothers.
Quitman brought a helper for all that hair. Mother of Chilly got poufy, for sure. 
Not poufy. 
Poufy. 
Not poufy. 
The Spencerian script invitation on a pearl white deckle-edged card was enclosed in a french, silver filigree-tissue lined envelope, ordered from the above genius Paper-Doll. Biker-Mom, the mother of the bride, on the phone, me and Paper-Doll doing the design. Do you think I would take Biker mom, my bff, into that overstimulating little space? No, this was a phone-a-friend occasion.Each invitation was hand calligraphied, then stuffed, then stamped, then checked, then each and every one had to be licked. Yummy.Guests entered the candlelit foyer of the church . . .Ok, this was technically before we lit the candles.... before being escorted to their seats.Groomsmen, brothers, cousins, friends, neighbors of the bride and groom attended the groom. Apparently they were using their "phone-a-friend lifeline" too. Their ties were not the fake pre-tied kind, but were hand-tied silk, tied by a professional bow-tier just hours before the pictures started, and that was early in their day, my friends.They wore boutinierre's of some little white and green flower that I cannot remember the name of. (PPP says "Is it FUH-REEEEE- sha? Yes, in fact it is. Freesia. She's good.). And I ask for these bouts almost every time. By name. It's a good thing the flower guy knows what I'm talking about. And boy, he does know exactly what I'm talking about - from start to finish, every time. The Garden District genius-guys created a double squared candelit arch, adorned with fresh white flowers. I was absolutely obsessed with the arch being squared off, not oval, and I am so, so glad. Just saying.The guys who created that magic actually BUILT structures to hold up all the flowers, and then lighted them to make it even more stunning. One of them wears a full-on tool belt with a power drill. I love these flower guys. The bride carried a boquet of white parrot tulips and. . .. . . enormous fresh lilies adorned the pews enveloping the sanctuary in the aroma of spring. The flowers were overwhelmingly beautiful. Also, smelled really good. Eau -du - matrimoniee. Add candles. Lots. Candles = magic.The bride was attended by her closest friends, who celebrated at a bridesmaid's luncheon, one of a whirl of parties honoring the bride. The bridesmaids wore Aegean blue taffeta dresses which were painstakingly ironed - with ruched bodices and ballroom skirts. So, the backstory on the dresses? OMG. In late summer we ordered some OTHER dresses from LOW'S and after a million phone calls, they finally told us on November 21 that the original dresses had never been ordered. I was alerted to this while in the midst of a college visit with PPP, receiving frantic text and phone brrrrppps from Bride and MOB in quick succession. This could be a serialized newspaper story called "Disasters in Wedding Planning" but it's not! It's called "Triumphs of calm problem-solving!" My calm and confident bride found herself some dresses from Saks Fifth Avenue, I tracked down the girls and their sizes, with a big help from the MATRON of Honor, a newlywed herself. VOILA, within days my able assistants were modeling the new dresses in the bride's bedroom over the Thanksgiving holiday. I mean seriously, that's a quick turnaround, from no dresses to 9 dresses! So, if you are looking for wedding planning hints, let me just say, LOWS - at your own risk. Universally agreed, the new dresses ROCKED. The old dresses? Don't know, because Low's didn't order them. The bride's hair and make-up was done by Quitman. That's Quitman, putting on the fierce make-up. Wait, is that someone ironing? Quitman was also in charge of flooofin' up the hair. Lovely Bride wore her hair in a bundle of cascading curls to highlight the fingertip veil of silk illusion. Also the bridesmaids, every last one of them, got curled and floofed up. And the mothers. Also, grandmothers. Quitman brought a helper for all that hair. Mother of Chilly got poufy, for sure. Not poufy. Poufy. Not poufy. The MOB wore....OK stop right here! Biker Mom ironed all afternoon with curlers in her hair. Keep your eye on the left hand.
I think she ironed every single bridesmaid dress. Once she QUIT ironing.... 
The mother-of-the-Bride wore a navy silk tulle strapless gown with bolero actually, this started out as a sort of aubergine color dress, but there were so many flaws in that aubergine fabric that her personal stylist ordered this great navy blue swirly dress with sparklies all up in the Cinderella skirt. And it was SO not black. Navy. And that furry little shrug-like bunny affair? Lovely Bride wore it at some point, before she got way too hot - MOB got it from E-Bay, just for the occasion. Mr. and Mrs. Chilly's future children will enjoy playing dress up with that little shrug.
The mother of the groom ... did not wear beige. She wore red and she wore it triumphantly. 
Also, it helps to bring along an ironer. A professional ironer, who does a sort of ironing dance. Someone with an advanced degree in ironing. Like an ironing doctor. One might say an M.I.
It got scary in there...between the floofing of the hair and the makeup and the manic - ironing. SCARY. GOOD scary, but still scary.
Professional photography service, including bridal portrait in the home of the doting parents, was provided by Trey Clark. Starting on Christmas Eve, when somehow, someway we got hair, make-up, dress and photographer together with the bride, and took a portrait, in her home. 17 phone calls, 24 text messages. On Christmas Eve. Consider that. On Christmas Eve.
Semi-professional photography provided by every parent, aunt, uncle and cousin, with Trey watching behind.
Totally amateur photography provided by me. So, I don't rock in everything.
Video by Jamie Hill. I love it when the wedding party tells me that they had no idea that the videographer was even there. Not sure how you can miss the big tripod in the back of the church, but whatever. It was a pretty wild day. I meant to say that it was an wildly exciting day. I think.
A gala reception followed, and a good time was had by all. 
Chilly threw his bride around the dance floor like a dancing fool. I took no pictures of that part. Trust, me though. They danced all night. And then they left.
I think she ironed every single bridesmaid dress. Once she QUIT ironing.... The mother-of-the-Bride wore a navy silk tulle strapless gown with bolero actually, this started out as a sort of aubergine color dress, but there were so many flaws in that aubergine fabric that her personal stylist ordered this great navy blue swirly dress with sparklies all up in the Cinderella skirt. And it was SO not black. Navy. And that furry little shrug-like bunny affair? Lovely Bride wore it at some point, before she got way too hot - MOB got it from E-Bay, just for the occasion. Mr. and Mrs. Chilly's future children will enjoy playing dress up with that little shrug.The mother of the groom ... did not wear beige. She wore red and she wore it triumphantly. Also, it helps to bring along an ironer. A professional ironer, who does a sort of ironing dance. Someone with an advanced degree in ironing. Like an ironing doctor. One might say an M.I. It got scary in there...between the floofing of the hair and the makeup and the manic - ironing. SCARY. GOOD scary, but still scary.Professional photography service, including bridal portrait in the home of the doting parents, was provided by Trey Clark. Starting on Christmas Eve, when somehow, someway we got hair, make-up, dress and photographer together with the bride, and took a portrait, in her home. 17 phone calls, 24 text messages. On Christmas Eve. Consider that. On Christmas Eve.Semi-professional photography provided by every parent, aunt, uncle and cousin, with Trey watching behind. Totally amateur photography provided by me. So, I don't rock in everything. Video by Jamie Hill. I love it when the wedding party tells me that they had no idea that the videographer was even there. Not sure how you can miss the big tripod in the back of the church, but whatever. It was a pretty wild day. I meant to say that it was an wildly exciting day. I think.A gala reception followed, and a good time was had by all. Chilly threw his bride around the dance floor like a dancing fool. I took no pictures of that part. Trust, me though. They danced all night. And then they left. After a honeymoon in Mexico, during which they turned off their cell phones and did not communicate with anyone including their parents, one of whom believed that they must be sick and stranded in some wayward Mexican emergency room They weren't. Sick that is. They were just HONEYMOONING - a sign that they applied some sound married decision making to the whole honeymoon concept.
Mr. and Mrs. Chilly will live in Atlanta . . . 
and go back to being normal people. (That's Chilly eating cheese. That's what normal people do.)
Nobody tell Big Lar this part, but the Mother of Chilly emailed me this week to verify a charge, noting that she "threw her credit card at everybody all weekend long." I thought I gave her a lanyard to tether that card to herself. Scary, I tell you.
Their parents are still recovering.
and go back to being normal people. (That's Chilly eating cheese. That's what normal people do.) Nobody tell Big Lar this part, but the Mother of Chilly emailed me this week to verify a charge, noting that she "threw her credit card at everybody all weekend long." I thought I gave her a lanyard to tether that card to herself. Scary, I tell you.Their parents are still recovering.
4 comments:
What a lovely matrimonial tale. Thank you for sharing!
I LOVE the bride's dress. So pretty!
best wedding weekend ever. the entire city of columbus must attend MY wedding too...but don't worry helen you have another million years before that happens!!
just remind Big Lar to be thankful he's not Tom! or remind Chilly's mom to point that out. did anyone video the manic ironing event? those girls are lucky they could MOVE in those dresses after all that pressing.
Excellent post by the glue.
-Chilly
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