I'm not in a meeting - it's a reminder to check the new arrivals at Saks

If ever you decide to get married to a tall dude that you’re living with* and, one day, you look at each other and say, in perfect unison, ‘screw the standard wedding.  Let’s go alternative.’

There are some things you must consider…

If ever you think to yourself, ‘white dresses be damned, I want a kick-ass cocktail dress that I’ll wear again.’

Be warned …

If ever you , the tall dude, and your mother gather ‘round a dinner table with a bottle of wine** and noodle over the prospect of a backyard pig-roast complete with lawn games, mason jar glasses and aluminum buckets filled with ice and bottled cider.

You. Are. Toast.

As preliminary as these nuptial plans may be, my cup runeth over with things the whimsical ‘indie’ wedding blogs don’t tell you about these ‘alternative affairs:’

ONE

Most unmarried 28 year old girls have at least 20 years of imagining and refining their ideal wedding dress.  Whether or not they intend a traditional wedding, they all know if they prefer strapless or not, lace or silk, white or off-white – if they tell you they’ve never pondered these design option they are full of shit.  And with that – they’ve already narrowed down what they’re looking for at the service-heavy, item specific bridal stores.

OH!!!!! But how fun to have only started considering your ‘alternative’ dress a few months ago, have no design specification other than, ‘probably not white,’ and have access to no less than four constantly changing major department store websites, multiple boutiques and a suspected set of underground stores where my gem is probably hiding. 

Etsy makes me nervous because I’m convinced that someone else is finding a treasure, from which, I’m but one click away***.  The tall dude makes fun of my compulsive, year-round apartment searching even after we’ve just signed a lease.  I’ve learned to avoid overpacked sale racks because the potential of a missed deal is almost too much anxiety for me to overcome.

I am the epitome of ‘post purchase cognitive dissonance’ ****.  The prospect of buyer’s remorse makes me manic.

Now – find that ambiguously envisioned dress and picture yourself wearing it on the night where you, in a fit of genius delirium, decided to combine New Year’s Eve with, what some tout as, one of the most important days of your life.  And embrace the freedom that you can always return it if you find something better. Go ahead ... find your perfect dress and feel completely settled when you find one you’re happy with.

21 dresses later, you’re thinking, ‘Piss off, cocktail dress.’

TWO
 ‘What!?!?!?’ you think, ‘$2,000 just to reserve that hall in the Holiday Inn Atrium ??!?!  You’re outta your mind.  I’m just going to throw this party in my parents’ backyard.  That’ll show you, Excessive-Wedding-Spending god.’

That god is laughing his ass off.

Because, unless your parents have some sort of new-agey backyard that the Ruffled blog hasn’t profiled yet, your new wedding site is devoid of some necessities that somehow flew under the radar as this idea was materializing. Namely, little things, like:

a. Plumbing – until a few dozen cocktails are downed, people are NOT apt to drop trow and mark a tree … at least most people

b. Electricity – unless, of course, you want to run power strips and extension cords from the double outlet in the garage … I’m sure the neighborhood won’t mind if you blow out some transformer down the line

c. Standard structural elements – floor, walls, ceiling

d. Places to sit and eat that don’t pose a risk of grass stains, soggy bottoms and arthritic flair ups
 
Someone built that hall with years of experience building crap. You’re half building something in a backyard that needs to be taken away 24 hours later … maybe you should consult the Burning Man people.

MAYBE YOU SHOULD JUST GET MARRIED AT BURNING MAN!!! (Careful Jenna, sarcasm doesn’t always translate and it’d be a shame to have to talk down the tall dude after you put that idea in his brain.)

Examples 1 and 2 seem like they’ll suffice for now … but trust me, they are but the tip of the ice berg.   And, while the project planner in me is excited at the prospect of spreadsheets full of color-coded schedules, assignments and ideas.  And the competitor in me can’t wait to pull off the blog ideas I’ve assembled.  And the meeting organizer in me looks forward to weekly dinner debriefs with the tall dude where he can sit and quietly thinking, ‘God!  Thank the lord she’s so good at this … I’m so impressed with the tenacity of my future wife.’

The nervous, neurotic mess in me needs to sit down, write this crap out and then laugh at the ridiculousness around the evolution of our ‘low budget, low maintenance’ wedding strategy.

*more specifically if you tell him that you will be husband and wife before the year’s end with or without a ring on your finger

** more like 3

*** I’m at a loss as to where that comma belongs … but my original sentence ended with ‘from’ and that made my guts hurt more than a misplaced comma.

**** I’m going to pretend that my four-year marketing degree made it simple to remember that term … and that Wikipedia isn’t a better source of education than a 500 person lecture.