Sometimes you need to find the time to just breathe. I’ve found some time today to visit the beach to do some blogging and some breathing, alone yet surrounded by eerily calm activity. It’s early. Early birds seem to be calm, happy people. Maybe it’s because they are still half asleep. I’ve been drawn to the coast today, like an ant drawn to Jackson and Mika’s food bowl. It’s forecast to be 41 degrees today and it’s overcast and humid. I’ve scurried here like an ant with lots of other ants. But the difference is, I’m a waterproof ant.
We're all very ant like at times in our lives. Rushing around seemingly without purpose and without any sense of rationality, always so busy. You never see an ant just chilling out do you? Kicking back, putting his little ant feet up? Unless it’s a queen ant. They get plenty of time to lie about, and that’s probably why they live 2.5 times longer than your regular worker ant. Stress = short life span. So sometimes it’s nice to just breathe, and blog, at the beach.
So, big news. I've had a wedding breakthrough. The dress. Has arrived. In my life. After a long, arduous search, I have found THE dress. Or maybe she found me. It has been a search fraught with the full gamut of emotions and was nothing like how I thought it would be.
The unofficial search began about a day after Fiancé and I became engaged, followed by a couple more serious shopping trips, which although amazing and fun, served only to further complicate and cloud the concept in my head. I purposely left a visit to this particular boutique until other options were exhausted knowing it was going to test the top end of my budget.
The process started with an interview and a full disclosure of how much I was willing to spend before I was even allowed to think about trying anything on. It came complete with a woman who spoke only in adjectives. I'm just beginning to feel like I can speak and write again with vigour after seeing this woman on three separate occasions. She left me drained. I had no adjectives. She had stolen them all from me in some bizarre act of adjective osmosis.
She explained that she would begin by trying on some ‘amazing’ shapes on me so that my body could speak to her. My body would speak to her and she would translate what it said to the dresses and we would have a solution. She was the dress whisperer. Seemed perfectly simple to me, body obliging. Hopefully Jenny could keep her mouth shut in all of this.
A brief was given via my wedding scrapbook. A visual feast of tulle and satin moulded into 'amazing shapes'. Unfortunately, the adjective stealing dress whisperer informed me that the cupboard was essentially void of anything vaguely my concept. They would have to design something specifically for me. She made it sound like they had always intended to create a gown just like the one I was describing, but I know better. I had inspired her. I was her muse.
Just now as I sit here at the beach, breathing and trying to find some peace on the grass under the shade of an old, straggly tree surrounded by no one, a thin lady has sought me out, sitting too close for my comfort talking to the voices in her head. She edges closer and closer to me.
The conversation continues. I guess we all have our own internal commentary but sometimes it makes its way to the outside. Who am I to judge? I sit here documenting my every thought and go on to publish it. The only difference is, mine are consciously shared with an audience. I believe this woman’s public commentary is largely involuntary and is shared with an imaginary audience. I wonder if she was once perfectly sane and then started planning a wedding and lost her mind.
More than likely.
So, as I was saying, I would have to wait for my concept to be designed before I could try it on. So I waited. Patiently.
Nearly a month later, I was back. And this time I was able to try on another amazing shape which very closely resembled the image that had previously existed only in my mind. However, they had been unable to completely finish it in time for my appointment; the bodice was entirely full of pins. I would have to use my imagination and do my best at looking amazing without being stabbed by one of the 235 pins. I succeeded with the first. I didn’t need much imagination, even in its unfinished form, it was clear that this dress was really speaking my language, the translation had obviously been clear. The dress whisperer had woven her adjective laden magic. I was falling in love all over again.
They say that love hurts. Love scars, love wounds and mars. And my dress love was going to hurt me beyond the pins that had stabbed me deep into the upper abdomen during that first fitting. I always like the most expensive things. I don’t mean too, it always just seems to turn out like that. It’s not fair. I very rarely go for it though, usually settling for something more with a more realistic price tag, achieving the same objective. I’d have to do some serious soul searching and book cooking before I could commit to the dress whisperer.
I sought advice from people who had been in the same situation and those who hadn’t. Close friends and family, and complete strangers. The response across the board was largely favourable and I started to feel less sick in the stomach. Fiancé gave me his support, figuring that the acceptance of Dress would give him long term bargaining power to procure things he wanted up to the same value. But I was sleepless and stressed and ant like. An angry, sad, excited, little ant.
As I said, I’d normally continue looking for something more conservatively priced, something less nice which would do the job. But this was my wedding dress we’re talking about. It’s not something you can go back and settle for. Well some can. Not me. Now, after some time has passed I can justify it to you in three or four different ways. My coping mechanisms have kicked in and I’m able to argue strongly in favour of Dress.
Of course, I asked adjective lady what the dress was called before committing to the purchase. She revealed that Dress was so new; she was yet to be named. Perfect. This was music to my ears. Perhaps they would let me name her. She was designed for me after all. I explained that I would purchase Dress if they named her after me. She chortled at the suggestion. My name is obviously not ridiculous enough to name a wedding dress after. I’m sure if my name was Fililaylia they would be more than obliging.
I had returned to the store 2 days later to see Dress in a more finished form before she flew to Sydney. I still loved her. Dress whisperer drowned me in adjectives, “the bow will be just a little bit more…adorable, gorgeous, charming, lovely, beautiful, delicious, cute, amazing, stunning, pretty, striking, perfect, glamorous, elegant etc etc.”
It was her. I’d found her. I don’t get to see her again until July, when my measurements will be taken. This date was determined by the dress whisperer asking me how long I would need to get skinny. She didn’t say it like that but that’s what she meant. “How are you feeling?” she queried. I looked at my mum for the answer. The truth is, I had been feeling pretty good, until then. She assured me she meant nothing by it but simply that it’s common for brides to go on some crazy diet or new exercise plan and end up having to pay for extra alterations accordingly. July was the latest I could go without effecting the timeline too badly. Jenny will be upset. She really has to go this time. At least for 6 months. So it seems no wonder that stress sets in. If I don’t maintain my weight from July – November, I’ll be looking at extra alts and extra $$’s. But it’s not actually as bad as it sounds, we’re talking in excess of 3cms, and I have until July to get where I need to be, and stay there. Piece of cake. Gluten, fat, sugar and carb free cake.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
The Bride Stripped Bare
I should really turn this into a vide blog, or at least carry around one of those little voice recorder things with me. I feel like I’m doing all of you such a disservice by simply relying on my memory and allowing my subconscious and my conscience to edit out the bits that aren’t so amazing. Because anyone who is here or has been here knows it’s not always fun. People piss you off. Sometimes a little bit and sometimes a lot. The degree of which varies depending on the subject and, more importantly, depending on the person and their relative proximity to the event and to your life.
Now, I make no apology for being an over analysing drama queen, it helped me to achieve remarkable results in English Literature at school and would have perhaps made me a very good lawyer in a previous life. In fact, it would probably have made me a very good one in this life also, had I not grown bored after that first year law/finance. I remember when I made that decision to tottle off and study law after my first 2 years studying Commerce at another institution. I was walking down the stairs to my car after a particularly uninteresting something and it hit me. I think I called my mum straight away to tell her the news. “I’m going to study law mum.” To which I received the standard mum reply – “fabulous,as long as it makes you happy.” Well, sorry mum, turns out it didn’t make me very happy at all. Although it would have perhaps made me very rich eventually – at the time it made me very bored and fearful that if I continued, I could count on that being a characteristic of my life along with depression, cynicism and a great deal of stress. That and I couldn’t decide on a specialist area – Commercial Law? Too boring. Family Law? Too sad. Criminal law? Too psycho. I think the ones that continue on to finish their entire law degree, which takes about 15 years to complete in full, with the same mindset as me without any real niche as such end up being those personal injury lawyers that you see advertised on those really bad ads on TV and on the back of the yellow pages.
Anyway, I digress (not like me), but my point is that there is so much going on the in wedding sub plot that is not always visible or acknowledged in the daily rehearsal. It’s the other characters, some of which may not fully understand their role or know the best way to play it. The ones that haven’t rehearsed before or the ones who forget their lines. Sometimes they want a bigger part or more lines. And they all have their own unique story to tell.
But imagine if a movie went into great detail to develop every character and went to great lengths to incorporate each characters story and they all had the same amount of lines to speak. How would you tell who the main characters were? And how would the movie have any meaning at all? At the same time, it wouldn’t be a very interesting movie if you heard from no one but the protagonists.
So not only are you playing the main role as bride and groom in this amazing wedding story, but we also find ourselves challenged with the role of writer and director, confronted with so many sub plots and managing them in the best way we know how. All the while, the undercurrent of wedding is to remain fun and exciting. This is no mean feat when there are so many feelings, sentiments, emotions out of your control that have come to be through miscellaneous unrelated events.
If I can reflect back to the start of this journey, I’m overcome with emotion. The people we’ve met along the way, the conversations we’ve had, the decisions we’ve made – might seem so simple, but has given me deep insight into so much more. I’ve learnt things about myself but more importantly, other people. It’s all about the people, some strangers and some so very close to me. Perceptions, on both sides perhaps, challenged in such a confronting way.
I’ve found allies and support in the most unexpected places and it’s a beautiful thing. Wedding has already given me so much. So many special moments and the provoking of many thoughts. I love every up and I love every down. The downs are where you find the best lessons and the most growth. All of this, AND the best is yet to come!
Now, I make no apology for being an over analysing drama queen, it helped me to achieve remarkable results in English Literature at school and would have perhaps made me a very good lawyer in a previous life. In fact, it would probably have made me a very good one in this life also, had I not grown bored after that first year law/finance. I remember when I made that decision to tottle off and study law after my first 2 years studying Commerce at another institution. I was walking down the stairs to my car after a particularly uninteresting something and it hit me. I think I called my mum straight away to tell her the news. “I’m going to study law mum.” To which I received the standard mum reply – “fabulous,as long as it makes you happy.” Well, sorry mum, turns out it didn’t make me very happy at all. Although it would have perhaps made me very rich eventually – at the time it made me very bored and fearful that if I continued, I could count on that being a characteristic of my life along with depression, cynicism and a great deal of stress. That and I couldn’t decide on a specialist area – Commercial Law? Too boring. Family Law? Too sad. Criminal law? Too psycho. I think the ones that continue on to finish their entire law degree, which takes about 15 years to complete in full, with the same mindset as me without any real niche as such end up being those personal injury lawyers that you see advertised on those really bad ads on TV and on the back of the yellow pages.
Anyway, I digress (not like me), but my point is that there is so much going on the in wedding sub plot that is not always visible or acknowledged in the daily rehearsal. It’s the other characters, some of which may not fully understand their role or know the best way to play it. The ones that haven’t rehearsed before or the ones who forget their lines. Sometimes they want a bigger part or more lines. And they all have their own unique story to tell.
But imagine if a movie went into great detail to develop every character and went to great lengths to incorporate each characters story and they all had the same amount of lines to speak. How would you tell who the main characters were? And how would the movie have any meaning at all? At the same time, it wouldn’t be a very interesting movie if you heard from no one but the protagonists.
So not only are you playing the main role as bride and groom in this amazing wedding story, but we also find ourselves challenged with the role of writer and director, confronted with so many sub plots and managing them in the best way we know how. All the while, the undercurrent of wedding is to remain fun and exciting. This is no mean feat when there are so many feelings, sentiments, emotions out of your control that have come to be through miscellaneous unrelated events.
If I can reflect back to the start of this journey, I’m overcome with emotion. The people we’ve met along the way, the conversations we’ve had, the decisions we’ve made – might seem so simple, but has given me deep insight into so much more. I’ve learnt things about myself but more importantly, other people. It’s all about the people, some strangers and some so very close to me. Perceptions, on both sides perhaps, challenged in such a confronting way.
I’ve found allies and support in the most unexpected places and it’s a beautiful thing. Wedding has already given me so much. So many special moments and the provoking of many thoughts. I love every up and I love every down. The downs are where you find the best lessons and the most growth. All of this, AND the best is yet to come!
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Down to business...
It’s been a while since my last post. I have no excuse other than I haven’t quite felt coherent enough to put something together. That, and I haven’t had one particular topic to share with you. Wedding is still very much almost always front of mind, but sometimes other life things get in the way. Not only are we (me) planning a wedding, we are also renovating our villa in preparation for sale later this year, and I’m in the midst of starting a little side venture marketing business. (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Pure-MPRD/254134344649795 for those who are interested!)
The business is much like the wedding at the moment – a work in progress that takes up a lot of my time and energy. In fact, at this very point in time wedding could even regard business as some sort of nemesis. They could be best friends in some other life, but for now, they are very much competing for my attention and I can’t choose a favourite. I imagine that it is similar to having children and being asked which one you love more. You see, I love different things about each of them. In some respects they are polar opposites but they also share some fundamental characteristics. Most importantly, they are both teaching me things.
I have wondered on occasion if I could have perhaps planned wedding in much the same fashion as business. And on occasion, I have mused that perhaps I have in many ways. There has been a loose plan for both, which in time will be tightened up as we work towards some strategic objectives for both business and wedding.
It is a well know business myth that 90% of businesses fail within their first year. More often than not, this failure can be attributed to bankruptcy and/or bad planning. I also wonder if the same principles apply and if badly planned (or unplanned) weddings also fail within their first year. Not a risk I’m willing (or able apparently) to take.
So it’s time to get serious.
Truth be told, I’m actually starting to feel a little anxious. Time is ticking. Driving home from the beach a couple of days ago, it suddenly smacked me upside the head. In exactly 11 months and 3 hours time, I would be walking down the aisle. 11 months. Not a long time in wedding hours. Shit. God. Shit. Refer to this post for a refresher on wedding time: http://www.the12408hourwedding.blogspot.com/2011/11/ceeeeleebrant-good-times-come-on.html
People tell me I shouldn’t be worried, that I have heaps of time and that I appear to be stupidly organised.
Hearing about other disorganised wedding plans puts me at ease somewhat, but it’s short lived when I realise these people are from another planet. I refer to a colleague of mine who is to be married in early March. She is yet to book a florist, spent the week before Christmas buying wedding shoes. She is also hassling my baker extraordinaire FILTB to make her a wedding cake, choosing to place her first call to him in the chaotic last days before Christmas. The thing is, she seems fine. Not a sign or symptom of panic in the girl whatsoever. I do my very best to avoid wedding talk with her as a) I’m not interested, but b) I get stressed FOR her.
As I mentioned though, we’re not very alike. She bubbled over with excitement today, exclaiming how excited she was that she had found her wedding ring in the Boxing Day sales and it was a real bargain. I don’t think Tiffany’s has a Boxing Day sale.
So compared with this girl, I look like the mother Theresa of wedding planning. My wedding will love me forever and her wedding will want to change its name and runaway as soon as it’s old enough. It may never forgive her.
But I still have a lot to do. Even more so since I have reclaimed control over the only 2 things that Fiancé was in charge of. Honeymoon and suits are now back on my list. Leaving him to organise…well...nothing. Apparently his proposal was his one and only contribution to this process. I guess that deserves some credit.
Fiance occassionally throws around names like control freak, but his plans so far for organising his suit etc, well, there aren't any. His idea was just to let the guys wear whatever they want. So, thats a no. Control freak or not. I know he just says things like that so I will take over, but it works. Little shit. The honeymoon we can work on together, but after a brief meeting with Fiance’s Swiss uncle over Christmas which went something like this “Oh when you come to Switzerland for your honeymoon, WE can go here and WE can go there and then WE’LL go to this place and watch some soccer match and then I can take you here etc etc”. Luckily, at the time, he was speaking in Swiss and Fiance only translated for me later, at which point I knew for sure how crucial my involvement in the honeymoon planning process will be.
So there’s absolutely no more coasting along. It’s business time. Oops no - I mean its wedding time? It’s wedding business time. Look wedding and business are just going to have to learn to get along. They are, after all, almost in the same stage of their respective planning processes. Both have a structure, key personnel and their relevant experience defined, a rough description of the product/service, we have a vague idea of both current market position and the potential for growth and the objectives for each in the short and long term, funds have been sought and allocated. We have a few decisions left to make. Pesky, little decisions. SO many decisions! And no dress.
It’s like the calm before the storm. But like the storm we had here in Perth last night. The one that I had no idea was coming. The one that woke me in the middle of night and kept me awake while it lashed its wind, lightning, hail and rain around the place. So I wonder when I will have a complete melt down. Hopefully soon so I can tick it off the list and move on. Planning for the unplanned, planning for amazing and planning not to fail. What could possibly go wrong?
The business is much like the wedding at the moment – a work in progress that takes up a lot of my time and energy. In fact, at this very point in time wedding could even regard business as some sort of nemesis. They could be best friends in some other life, but for now, they are very much competing for my attention and I can’t choose a favourite. I imagine that it is similar to having children and being asked which one you love more. You see, I love different things about each of them. In some respects they are polar opposites but they also share some fundamental characteristics. Most importantly, they are both teaching me things.
I have wondered on occasion if I could have perhaps planned wedding in much the same fashion as business. And on occasion, I have mused that perhaps I have in many ways. There has been a loose plan for both, which in time will be tightened up as we work towards some strategic objectives for both business and wedding.
It is a well know business myth that 90% of businesses fail within their first year. More often than not, this failure can be attributed to bankruptcy and/or bad planning. I also wonder if the same principles apply and if badly planned (or unplanned) weddings also fail within their first year. Not a risk I’m willing (or able apparently) to take.
So it’s time to get serious.
Truth be told, I’m actually starting to feel a little anxious. Time is ticking. Driving home from the beach a couple of days ago, it suddenly smacked me upside the head. In exactly 11 months and 3 hours time, I would be walking down the aisle. 11 months. Not a long time in wedding hours. Shit. God. Shit. Refer to this post for a refresher on wedding time: http://www.the12408hourwedding.blogspot.com/2011/11/ceeeeleebrant-good-times-come-on.html
People tell me I shouldn’t be worried, that I have heaps of time and that I appear to be stupidly organised.
Hearing about other disorganised wedding plans puts me at ease somewhat, but it’s short lived when I realise these people are from another planet. I refer to a colleague of mine who is to be married in early March. She is yet to book a florist, spent the week before Christmas buying wedding shoes. She is also hassling my baker extraordinaire FILTB to make her a wedding cake, choosing to place her first call to him in the chaotic last days before Christmas. The thing is, she seems fine. Not a sign or symptom of panic in the girl whatsoever. I do my very best to avoid wedding talk with her as a) I’m not interested, but b) I get stressed FOR her.
As I mentioned though, we’re not very alike. She bubbled over with excitement today, exclaiming how excited she was that she had found her wedding ring in the Boxing Day sales and it was a real bargain. I don’t think Tiffany’s has a Boxing Day sale.
So compared with this girl, I look like the mother Theresa of wedding planning. My wedding will love me forever and her wedding will want to change its name and runaway as soon as it’s old enough. It may never forgive her.
But I still have a lot to do. Even more so since I have reclaimed control over the only 2 things that Fiancé was in charge of. Honeymoon and suits are now back on my list. Leaving him to organise…well...nothing. Apparently his proposal was his one and only contribution to this process. I guess that deserves some credit.
Fiance occassionally throws around names like control freak, but his plans so far for organising his suit etc, well, there aren't any. His idea was just to let the guys wear whatever they want. So, thats a no. Control freak or not. I know he just says things like that so I will take over, but it works. Little shit. The honeymoon we can work on together, but after a brief meeting with Fiance’s Swiss uncle over Christmas which went something like this “Oh when you come to Switzerland for your honeymoon, WE can go here and WE can go there and then WE’LL go to this place and watch some soccer match and then I can take you here etc etc”. Luckily, at the time, he was speaking in Swiss and Fiance only translated for me later, at which point I knew for sure how crucial my involvement in the honeymoon planning process will be.
So there’s absolutely no more coasting along. It’s business time. Oops no - I mean its wedding time? It’s wedding business time. Look wedding and business are just going to have to learn to get along. They are, after all, almost in the same stage of their respective planning processes. Both have a structure, key personnel and their relevant experience defined, a rough description of the product/service, we have a vague idea of both current market position and the potential for growth and the objectives for each in the short and long term, funds have been sought and allocated. We have a few decisions left to make. Pesky, little decisions. SO many decisions! And no dress.
It’s like the calm before the storm. But like the storm we had here in Perth last night. The one that I had no idea was coming. The one that woke me in the middle of night and kept me awake while it lashed its wind, lightning, hail and rain around the place. So I wonder when I will have a complete melt down. Hopefully soon so I can tick it off the list and move on. Planning for the unplanned, planning for amazing and planning not to fail. What could possibly go wrong?
Sunday, December 4, 2011
It's a bittersweet symphony - and there's no dress singing to me now
The lack of blogging over the last couple of weeks does not mean that nothing has been happening. In fact, Wedding continues to gather steam, albeit in a lovely ethereal type way. The most elegant rolling boulder you have ever seen, Wedding doesn’t go about its business in a steam rolling type fashion, it leaves no path of destruction. Instead she glides, almost floating above the earth leaving only a trail of liquid nitrogen and fairy dust in its wake. The motion can be compared to one of those marble-sphere water features, purposeful and yet peaceful.
Yes, it all continues to go smoothly. But like any well run production, Wedding is not dissimilar to that good old analogy of the graceful swan gliding along the river, so graceful and effortless to its audience, but paddling along like crazy underneath the water. At this point, and depending on the day, Wedding occupies probably about 55 – 60% of my brain capacity. Maybe 70% at times. For those of you who don’t know me that well, that’s quite a lot. It is really quite entrenched in my day to day life. My record run of consecutive ‘Wedding free days’ is probably about 3. Max. At a stretch.
Sometimes, it’s a great excuse for an escape from the less than satisfying activities offered by the daily bill paying facility – work. I imagine there plenty of brides to be out there in the same boat. Productivity is at an all time low. Not particularly bothered with reports, strategies or spread sheets, but in a way, Wedding in itself is really a research project. Everyone knows how important research is. It’s crucial really. Without it, we’d have badly planned, expensive, ill informed, uncoordinated weddings taking place all over the country. My employer doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, they take comfort in the fact that Wedding is on the horizon, assuming that its mere existence will be enough to keep me anchored right where I am without too much excess ambition, and definitely no scope for just pulling the plug. They are of the opinion that I “won’t be going anywhere” simply because I have a wedding to pay for.
Wedding to them, is like a form of collateral. A security bond that will prevent me from suddenly seeking alternative employment. They seem all too aware of the power of Wedding, and have assumed (pretty accurately) that a bride-to-be will think of nothing else but her impending nuptials.
It sounds bad. But before you suggest that I need to go to ‘life rehab’ I must stress that it’s not an all-consuming process. It’s like the marble sphere, purposeful and peaceful. And it might just be a quick look on the internet, a moment of insane spontaneous online bonbonniere shopping (I literally went all the way through to the checkout page) or a brief wedding related conversation. It’s not like every day is filled with intensive wedding planning. The planning has just simply reached a very complicated and labour intensive stage. It’s time for dress shopping.
OMG, dress shopping. It’s like a rollercoaster of emotion. Mostly exciting with a peppering of hope and optimism, but balanced with feelings of disappointment, anxiety and fear. The search for ‘the dress’ that’s been years in the making in your imagination. My little wedding scrapbook which accompanies me to any wedding related appointment invites remarks such as “Oh, look an organised bride”, leaving me to question what the unorganised bride looks like and how many categories of bride there actually are. Anyway, ‘organised bride’ comes with a book that contains cut outs of gowns, cropped creations of tulle, beads and satin, flowers, cakes and miscellaneous.
But it never receives the attention it deserves. In my limited experience, the shop attendant does a quick initiation, sizing you up to the type of dress that they think that you want. Which is pretty hard when they’ve know you for 3 seconds.
As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’ve tried on some amazing gorgeous dresses, and I’m sure if I was having 8, at least one would get a Guernsey. But I only get to choose one. It’s so shit. I’m not one of those people that have a definite and disciplined idea of things. I don’t have a favourite food – I like lots of food. Favourite movie? No. Don’t have a favourite. Colour? Well I like lots of colours. I can’t pick just one and call it my favourite. That wouldn’t be fair. In fact it would be impossible. I don’t have favourites. I like variety. And I like what I like. And I like it because I like it. I’m inherently ambivalent.
I dabbled in this kind of work back in my uni days. Women’s fashion. I know the qualifying questions that you’re supposed to ask, to get into someone’s psyche (a scary place in a world full of body dysmorphic disorders) to find out what they like about the item/dress/skirt etc but more importantly what they don’t like about it, so you can totter off and find them the perfect thing. It’s getting them to sell to themselves essentially with you only having to string a few buzz words together in any combination like ‘amazing’, ‘shape’, ‘gorgeous’, ‘tiny’, ‘stunning’, ‘length’, ‘proportion’ so on and so forth.
And so I stand, sometimes on a box, in front of a big mirror in a variety of gowns in varying shades of white and ivory, and stare blankly back at myself, and when we exceed the allowed time of awkward silence, I’m interrogated as to what I don’t like about it.
More awkward silence and blank stares ensue. I don’t dislike it. It’s just not my dress. Not much you can do about that. No amount of buzz words will change it.
“It’s lovely; I like it more than the last one I tried?” But that doesn’t mean I’m going to shell out thousands of dollars for something ‘nice’ that I could wear, if I was having 8 other wedding dresses. But even then, I might not. I’m really not good at this constructive feedback game. Because I know in my heart of hearts, that despite their best efforts and the exhaustive and repetitive process of squeezing in and out of layers of silk, lace, taffeta, and tulle, they just don’t have ‘my dress’.
You’re meant to get ‘that’ feeling, the one of knowing that it’s your dress. And that’s what all the brides say. But when you don’t get it, you start to question whether you ever will. So you go home, put yourself back together with some wine glue and start again, plan the next appointment, and get stupidly excited all over again. It's such an amazing, fun experience with a side of heartbreak. It's like going out for the most delicious, extravagant, expensive dinner and then walking out of the restaurant starving hungry, with an empty feeling and then you have to go to Macca's on the way home. A bittersweet symphony.
Bridesmaid’s dresses on the other hand has been a completely different story. A result of persistent research, searching for something which was a vague idea in my head, proved so so fruitful when one day just prior to wedding hour (lunch), I stumbled across the most stunning, perfect things that so honestly reflected everything I had been imagining and looking for without being able to verbalise.
The hardest thing about the BMD’s is coordinating times with a long distance MOH for a first try on, and the fact that they cost just slightly more than her own wedding dress (which we have since established will not be involved in any future benchmarking process due to a set of unique and uncanny circumstances!).
Other than that, it’s a win. Well a point on the board anyway. We still have to decide on the actual style, the embellishments and the colour. But what could be so hard about that? I’ll just pick my ‘favourite’ colour right? Uh oh.
Yes, it all continues to go smoothly. But like any well run production, Wedding is not dissimilar to that good old analogy of the graceful swan gliding along the river, so graceful and effortless to its audience, but paddling along like crazy underneath the water. At this point, and depending on the day, Wedding occupies probably about 55 – 60% of my brain capacity. Maybe 70% at times. For those of you who don’t know me that well, that’s quite a lot. It is really quite entrenched in my day to day life. My record run of consecutive ‘Wedding free days’ is probably about 3. Max. At a stretch.
Sometimes, it’s a great excuse for an escape from the less than satisfying activities offered by the daily bill paying facility – work. I imagine there plenty of brides to be out there in the same boat. Productivity is at an all time low. Not particularly bothered with reports, strategies or spread sheets, but in a way, Wedding in itself is really a research project. Everyone knows how important research is. It’s crucial really. Without it, we’d have badly planned, expensive, ill informed, uncoordinated weddings taking place all over the country. My employer doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, they take comfort in the fact that Wedding is on the horizon, assuming that its mere existence will be enough to keep me anchored right where I am without too much excess ambition, and definitely no scope for just pulling the plug. They are of the opinion that I “won’t be going anywhere” simply because I have a wedding to pay for.
Wedding to them, is like a form of collateral. A security bond that will prevent me from suddenly seeking alternative employment. They seem all too aware of the power of Wedding, and have assumed (pretty accurately) that a bride-to-be will think of nothing else but her impending nuptials.
It sounds bad. But before you suggest that I need to go to ‘life rehab’ I must stress that it’s not an all-consuming process. It’s like the marble sphere, purposeful and peaceful. And it might just be a quick look on the internet, a moment of insane spontaneous online bonbonniere shopping (I literally went all the way through to the checkout page) or a brief wedding related conversation. It’s not like every day is filled with intensive wedding planning. The planning has just simply reached a very complicated and labour intensive stage. It’s time for dress shopping.
OMG, dress shopping. It’s like a rollercoaster of emotion. Mostly exciting with a peppering of hope and optimism, but balanced with feelings of disappointment, anxiety and fear. The search for ‘the dress’ that’s been years in the making in your imagination. My little wedding scrapbook which accompanies me to any wedding related appointment invites remarks such as “Oh, look an organised bride”, leaving me to question what the unorganised bride looks like and how many categories of bride there actually are. Anyway, ‘organised bride’ comes with a book that contains cut outs of gowns, cropped creations of tulle, beads and satin, flowers, cakes and miscellaneous.
But it never receives the attention it deserves. In my limited experience, the shop attendant does a quick initiation, sizing you up to the type of dress that they think that you want. Which is pretty hard when they’ve know you for 3 seconds.
As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’ve tried on some amazing gorgeous dresses, and I’m sure if I was having 8, at least one would get a Guernsey. But I only get to choose one. It’s so shit. I’m not one of those people that have a definite and disciplined idea of things. I don’t have a favourite food – I like lots of food. Favourite movie? No. Don’t have a favourite. Colour? Well I like lots of colours. I can’t pick just one and call it my favourite. That wouldn’t be fair. In fact it would be impossible. I don’t have favourites. I like variety. And I like what I like. And I like it because I like it. I’m inherently ambivalent.
I dabbled in this kind of work back in my uni days. Women’s fashion. I know the qualifying questions that you’re supposed to ask, to get into someone’s psyche (a scary place in a world full of body dysmorphic disorders) to find out what they like about the item/dress/skirt etc but more importantly what they don’t like about it, so you can totter off and find them the perfect thing. It’s getting them to sell to themselves essentially with you only having to string a few buzz words together in any combination like ‘amazing’, ‘shape’, ‘gorgeous’, ‘tiny’, ‘stunning’, ‘length’, ‘proportion’ so on and so forth.
And so I stand, sometimes on a box, in front of a big mirror in a variety of gowns in varying shades of white and ivory, and stare blankly back at myself, and when we exceed the allowed time of awkward silence, I’m interrogated as to what I don’t like about it.
More awkward silence and blank stares ensue. I don’t dislike it. It’s just not my dress. Not much you can do about that. No amount of buzz words will change it.
“It’s lovely; I like it more than the last one I tried?” But that doesn’t mean I’m going to shell out thousands of dollars for something ‘nice’ that I could wear, if I was having 8 other wedding dresses. But even then, I might not. I’m really not good at this constructive feedback game. Because I know in my heart of hearts, that despite their best efforts and the exhaustive and repetitive process of squeezing in and out of layers of silk, lace, taffeta, and tulle, they just don’t have ‘my dress’.
You’re meant to get ‘that’ feeling, the one of knowing that it’s your dress. And that’s what all the brides say. But when you don’t get it, you start to question whether you ever will. So you go home, put yourself back together with some wine glue and start again, plan the next appointment, and get stupidly excited all over again. It's such an amazing, fun experience with a side of heartbreak. It's like going out for the most delicious, extravagant, expensive dinner and then walking out of the restaurant starving hungry, with an empty feeling and then you have to go to Macca's on the way home. A bittersweet symphony.
Bridesmaid’s dresses on the other hand has been a completely different story. A result of persistent research, searching for something which was a vague idea in my head, proved so so fruitful when one day just prior to wedding hour (lunch), I stumbled across the most stunning, perfect things that so honestly reflected everything I had been imagining and looking for without being able to verbalise.
The hardest thing about the BMD’s is coordinating times with a long distance MOH for a first try on, and the fact that they cost just slightly more than her own wedding dress (which we have since established will not be involved in any future benchmarking process due to a set of unique and uncanny circumstances!).
Other than that, it’s a win. Well a point on the board anyway. We still have to decide on the actual style, the embellishments and the colour. But what could be so hard about that? I’ll just pick my ‘favourite’ colour right? Uh oh.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
The Blinker Effect
Nothing major to report this week on the wedding front. Or perhaps wedding is now so entrenched in my day to day that nothing really seems ‘interesting’ or newsworthy anymore. I actually opened up a new blog post a couple of days ago ready to go with an update. As I sat at my computer, the usually frenzied keyboard attack was not forthcoming, nothing had bubbled to the surface during the course of wedding related events in the last couple of weeks. Oh my. Could it be? I’m organizing the shit out of this wedding. And I’m doing it in a very relaxed, stealth like manner.
Even Fiancé followed up last night… “You haven’t done a blog this week.” Perhaps I’m internalizing. I guess we’ll find out. Or maybe I’m just coming to terms with the task at hand, and feeling quite comfortable with where we are at with it all, with most of the major things taken care of.
I’ve taken quite a ruthless, systematic approach to organizing wedding. I made a list, developed a budget, lobbied for funding, and then went about sourcing potential suppliers, with much success. It’s like a domino effect. Once you get started by locking in the venue, the rest flows from there. One by one, things get knocked over, ticked off the list.
For the most part, I’ve really just locked things in, paid the deposits and then moved on, there really is still a few details that may need working out. But I’m banking on it all coming together when the universe deems it a relevant time. There is a natural order of things.
In the last week I have found some potential bridesmaid dresses. This was a fairly big milestone for me having had something in my head but having no idea where I would find it. I shouldn’t have been concerned. Facebook showed me the way. I spent one whole day breathless with excitement and anticipation. I was chomping at the bit to get down to the stockist and whack 3 x dresses on hold immediately. That’s what I do. Make a decision, and act on it. Without a whole lot of consideration or rational thought. That whole concept of ‘sleeping on it’ is a foreign one to me, I much prefer spontaneous, immediate decision making. Let’s just say I trust my instincts. And life’s too short. And whatever other cliché you can think of to support my argument.
If MOH didn’t live 2 hours away, I dare say we’d have another thing on its way to being ticked off the list by now. It’s more than likely a blessing in disguise. Having to schedule appointments and lock in times with everyone forces me to have some time away from it and to “sleep on it” I guess. In fact, I’ve now slept on it for 3 nights. And I’m feeling slightly more calm about the situation. But I still want those dresses. Now.
Oh and I now also have a hair stylist. I based this decision on (another) recommendation, and the fact that she had a website. I felt that this gave her an edge over others I had contacted and allowed me to scrutinize her skills by looking at a huge range of images. Basically, I have a fervent appreciation of people who exhibit sharp business acumen, foresight and organization. She deserves my business.
But I do believe there is such a thing as being too organized! And there is a downside. That is that you live in fear of seeing something better and more perfect than what you already have. Even if you stop looking, being in the wedding realm, you are bound to be exposed to these things. Is there such a thing as wedding blinkers? Like horses wear when they are racing so the other horses don’t make them angry or put them off their game?
Many racehorse trainers believe that blinkers keep the horse focused on what is in front of him or her, encouraging him/her to pay attention to the race rather than other distractions, such as crowds. Or other wedding/bridesmaid dresses/flowers/hair stylists.
Yes, I’m definitely going to need some blinkers.
Especially when it comes to the wedding dress. I’m reluctant to fall in love with anything too early for this very reason. The blinker effect. I won’t, however, be leaving it to the very last minute! I heard of a bride this week who has just found her perfect gown, with 11 days to go until her big day. 11. Days. God, there’s that breathless, anxious feeling again, OMG I’m stressed FOR her!
I will not be faced with this scenario. I’ve already identified about 8 dresses that I have developed feelings for. Without even trying them on. Oh god. How am I going to pick JUST ONE?? Perhaps, we should’ve considered an Eastern style wedding where celebrations extend over 8 days. Then I could have 8 dresses.
So the approach to wedding dress is a matter of carefully considered timing. I need to take a measured, considered approach that leaves enough time for dress to be made if need be, and time for ample fittings – to keep up with the ‘shedding for the wedding’ activities – without creeping into the danger zone.
So the wedding ball rolls on, gathering momentum in a calm, collected and ladylike manner.
Even Fiancé followed up last night… “You haven’t done a blog this week.” Perhaps I’m internalizing. I guess we’ll find out. Or maybe I’m just coming to terms with the task at hand, and feeling quite comfortable with where we are at with it all, with most of the major things taken care of.
I’ve taken quite a ruthless, systematic approach to organizing wedding. I made a list, developed a budget, lobbied for funding, and then went about sourcing potential suppliers, with much success. It’s like a domino effect. Once you get started by locking in the venue, the rest flows from there. One by one, things get knocked over, ticked off the list.
For the most part, I’ve really just locked things in, paid the deposits and then moved on, there really is still a few details that may need working out. But I’m banking on it all coming together when the universe deems it a relevant time. There is a natural order of things.
In the last week I have found some potential bridesmaid dresses. This was a fairly big milestone for me having had something in my head but having no idea where I would find it. I shouldn’t have been concerned. Facebook showed me the way. I spent one whole day breathless with excitement and anticipation. I was chomping at the bit to get down to the stockist and whack 3 x dresses on hold immediately. That’s what I do. Make a decision, and act on it. Without a whole lot of consideration or rational thought. That whole concept of ‘sleeping on it’ is a foreign one to me, I much prefer spontaneous, immediate decision making. Let’s just say I trust my instincts. And life’s too short. And whatever other cliché you can think of to support my argument.
If MOH didn’t live 2 hours away, I dare say we’d have another thing on its way to being ticked off the list by now. It’s more than likely a blessing in disguise. Having to schedule appointments and lock in times with everyone forces me to have some time away from it and to “sleep on it” I guess. In fact, I’ve now slept on it for 3 nights. And I’m feeling slightly more calm about the situation. But I still want those dresses. Now.
Oh and I now also have a hair stylist. I based this decision on (another) recommendation, and the fact that she had a website. I felt that this gave her an edge over others I had contacted and allowed me to scrutinize her skills by looking at a huge range of images. Basically, I have a fervent appreciation of people who exhibit sharp business acumen, foresight and organization. She deserves my business.
But I do believe there is such a thing as being too organized! And there is a downside. That is that you live in fear of seeing something better and more perfect than what you already have. Even if you stop looking, being in the wedding realm, you are bound to be exposed to these things. Is there such a thing as wedding blinkers? Like horses wear when they are racing so the other horses don’t make them angry or put them off their game?
Many racehorse trainers believe that blinkers keep the horse focused on what is in front of him or her, encouraging him/her to pay attention to the race rather than other distractions, such as crowds. Or other wedding/bridesmaid dresses/flowers/hair stylists.
Yes, I’m definitely going to need some blinkers.
Especially when it comes to the wedding dress. I’m reluctant to fall in love with anything too early for this very reason. The blinker effect. I won’t, however, be leaving it to the very last minute! I heard of a bride this week who has just found her perfect gown, with 11 days to go until her big day. 11. Days. God, there’s that breathless, anxious feeling again, OMG I’m stressed FOR her!
I will not be faced with this scenario. I’ve already identified about 8 dresses that I have developed feelings for. Without even trying them on. Oh god. How am I going to pick JUST ONE?? Perhaps, we should’ve considered an Eastern style wedding where celebrations extend over 8 days. Then I could have 8 dresses.
So the approach to wedding dress is a matter of carefully considered timing. I need to take a measured, considered approach that leaves enough time for dress to be made if need be, and time for ample fittings – to keep up with the ‘shedding for the wedding’ activities – without creeping into the danger zone.
So the wedding ball rolls on, gathering momentum in a calm, collected and ladylike manner.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Ceeeeleebrant good times! Come On!
As the clock runs down from the 1 year mark, I have felt a shift in my planning from the light hearted, fun stuff to the down to business, serious end of the spectrum. Of course it’s still a relatively long time to go to the everyday human being on the street. 1 year. Plenty of time to get organised one would think. But it’s not long in Wedding Time. To put it into simple terms, a 24 hour day for the normal, everyday, non-bride-to-be would equate to approximately 3 days in Wedding time. They just go faster when you are going through something like this. Therefore, I now have less than 121 actual ‘Wedding Time’ days left before the ‘BIG’ day.
One of the reasons that we choose our date, was to allow enough time to organise the wedding WITHOUT having to stress or be stuck with a less than impressive list of suppliers/venues etc. Granted, the planning still takes up a large chunk of my psyche on the daily but our (my) decisions are considered and well informed. I know that a lot of people have organized their own wedding in ridiculously short amounts of time, I don’t know why you would choose to rush it unless you were:
a) Pregnant
b) Close to having a Visa expire
c) Hoping to trap someone into a loveless marriage before they realized you were a complete psychopath.
But I digress. There has definitely been a shift in my approach to the planning at this point. It’s no longer a case of having plenty of time, it’s starting to get a little more serious than that.
I think the turning point was finally deciding on a celebrant. This has been an interesting one. For Fiance and I, it was really simply a matter of necessity and nothing more. We hadn’t really placed a lot of importance on the role of this person. For followers of Wedding though, it has been a pertinent point of interest. I remember it being raised by MOB when the idea of Wedding was only in its infancy. She had been speaking with my Nan about it. ?. It is now even, perhaps, in the lower echelons of FAWQ (frequently asked wedding questions). Which was, initially, hard for me to understand.
The intentions of interested parties, however, seems absolutely justified now that I have begun to dig a little deeper into the realms of Celebrantcy. It’s one of those subjects, where you only ever seem to hear the horror stories, only one of which I’ve actually witnessed.
Apparently the Celebrant at an Aunts wedding, had such a thick Scottish accent that no one could understand a word he was saying. Perhaps they should’ve all had a few drinks before the ceremony as, in my experience, the more intoxicated you are, the easier it is to understand the Scots.
At MOH’s wedding, there was a case of the old vow switcheroo, not that anyone would have known any different had it not been rectified by the Groom, but certainly not ideal for the happy couple!
I’ve heard stories of celebrants and even their Catholic counterparts forgetting the names of the bride and/or groom, using the ceremony to push their own agendas (religious or not), telling bad jokes and just generally being awkward and weird.
So, unless you actually happen to know someone who is legally entitled to officiate over a wedding and sign off on all the paper work, how do you choose? And why does it matter?
Our (my) initial thoughts were that it didn’t really matter at all. As long as they could speak that should be fine and I’d also prefer someone who didn’t resemble a troll so as not to ruin any wedding photos. After all, all they have to do is say “Hey, what’s up ya’ll? So you want to get married? That’s cool. Do you both want to get married? Awesome. Alright then, you’re married. Just sign here and here and off you go. Have fun kids.” Right? Then we can all go and have a drink, a bit to eat and a dance. Apparently, that’s not how it’s done.
My initial searches proved fruitless. The problem with these celebrant people, is that they all still appear to have real lives of their own. Which means that your wedding will have to fit in with things like family holidays, the unexpected success of other commercial business ventures, overseas trips etc. Being a celebrant is obviously more of a part time income supplement, rather than a full time career, making it difficult to find one that isn’t shit, that doesn’t have something better to do.
As with most of our (my) decisions thus far, this one was also based on referral. And it seems to be working out jolly good so far. Good people like working with good people, and since these people see hundreds of weddings each year, they are certainly more qualified than me to say who is proficient in their chosen part-time field, and who is not. So, on recommendation from our amazing DJ, who was referred from our amazing venue, I contacted Carla, a local Dunsborough celebrant. Although we are yet to meet face to face, it’s so far so good!
It wasn’t until Carla sent through some Ceremony and reading samples, that my attitude towards the whole thing shifted ever so slightly. During wedding hour (lunch) at work I began to read through the extensive materials she had emailed across.
Some of it was nothing out of the ordinary, the usual traditional stuff that you always hear at weddings, usually in the movies. I continued to read. Reading, reading, reading, sniffle, reading, tear, reading. OMG, this is good shit. Something hit me. It was the story of fiancé and I. Right there on the computer screen in front of me. “OMG, that’s it!” Such simple, beautiful words. And suddenly it all becomes a little bit more real and grown up. Less about getting a nice, shiny new ring and more about what it signifies.
It’s so easy to get lost in Wedding time, to get caught up in flowers and bonbonierres, that it’s just so refreshing to be smacked across the face with a big fat reminder of why you’re actually doing it all in the first place.
And so with that, without giving too much away (especially to my fellow brides to be), I’ll leave you with these words:
“One of the beautiful things about marriage is that whilst two lives unite to become one, you do not lose yourself in the other, you find yourself.”
Tear. Sniffle. Tear.
One of the reasons that we choose our date, was to allow enough time to organise the wedding WITHOUT having to stress or be stuck with a less than impressive list of suppliers/venues etc. Granted, the planning still takes up a large chunk of my psyche on the daily but our (my) decisions are considered and well informed. I know that a lot of people have organized their own wedding in ridiculously short amounts of time, I don’t know why you would choose to rush it unless you were:
a) Pregnant
b) Close to having a Visa expire
c) Hoping to trap someone into a loveless marriage before they realized you were a complete psychopath.
But I digress. There has definitely been a shift in my approach to the planning at this point. It’s no longer a case of having plenty of time, it’s starting to get a little more serious than that.
I think the turning point was finally deciding on a celebrant. This has been an interesting one. For Fiance and I, it was really simply a matter of necessity and nothing more. We hadn’t really placed a lot of importance on the role of this person. For followers of Wedding though, it has been a pertinent point of interest. I remember it being raised by MOB when the idea of Wedding was only in its infancy. She had been speaking with my Nan about it. ?. It is now even, perhaps, in the lower echelons of FAWQ (frequently asked wedding questions). Which was, initially, hard for me to understand.
image courtesy of Blakeney Photography via www.mrbg.com.au
The intentions of interested parties, however, seems absolutely justified now that I have begun to dig a little deeper into the realms of Celebrantcy. It’s one of those subjects, where you only ever seem to hear the horror stories, only one of which I’ve actually witnessed.
Apparently the Celebrant at an Aunts wedding, had such a thick Scottish accent that no one could understand a word he was saying. Perhaps they should’ve all had a few drinks before the ceremony as, in my experience, the more intoxicated you are, the easier it is to understand the Scots.
At MOH’s wedding, there was a case of the old vow switcheroo, not that anyone would have known any different had it not been rectified by the Groom, but certainly not ideal for the happy couple!
I’ve heard stories of celebrants and even their Catholic counterparts forgetting the names of the bride and/or groom, using the ceremony to push their own agendas (religious or not), telling bad jokes and just generally being awkward and weird.
So, unless you actually happen to know someone who is legally entitled to officiate over a wedding and sign off on all the paper work, how do you choose? And why does it matter?
Our (my) initial thoughts were that it didn’t really matter at all. As long as they could speak that should be fine and I’d also prefer someone who didn’t resemble a troll so as not to ruin any wedding photos. After all, all they have to do is say “Hey, what’s up ya’ll? So you want to get married? That’s cool. Do you both want to get married? Awesome. Alright then, you’re married. Just sign here and here and off you go. Have fun kids.” Right? Then we can all go and have a drink, a bit to eat and a dance. Apparently, that’s not how it’s done.
My initial searches proved fruitless. The problem with these celebrant people, is that they all still appear to have real lives of their own. Which means that your wedding will have to fit in with things like family holidays, the unexpected success of other commercial business ventures, overseas trips etc. Being a celebrant is obviously more of a part time income supplement, rather than a full time career, making it difficult to find one that isn’t shit, that doesn’t have something better to do.
As with most of our (my) decisions thus far, this one was also based on referral. And it seems to be working out jolly good so far. Good people like working with good people, and since these people see hundreds of weddings each year, they are certainly more qualified than me to say who is proficient in their chosen part-time field, and who is not. So, on recommendation from our amazing DJ, who was referred from our amazing venue, I contacted Carla, a local Dunsborough celebrant. Although we are yet to meet face to face, it’s so far so good!
It wasn’t until Carla sent through some Ceremony and reading samples, that my attitude towards the whole thing shifted ever so slightly. During wedding hour (lunch) at work I began to read through the extensive materials she had emailed across.
Some of it was nothing out of the ordinary, the usual traditional stuff that you always hear at weddings, usually in the movies. I continued to read. Reading, reading, reading, sniffle, reading, tear, reading. OMG, this is good shit. Something hit me. It was the story of fiancé and I. Right there on the computer screen in front of me. “OMG, that’s it!” Such simple, beautiful words. And suddenly it all becomes a little bit more real and grown up. Less about getting a nice, shiny new ring and more about what it signifies.
It’s so easy to get lost in Wedding time, to get caught up in flowers and bonbonierres, that it’s just so refreshing to be smacked across the face with a big fat reminder of why you’re actually doing it all in the first place.
And so with that, without giving too much away (especially to my fellow brides to be), I’ll leave you with these words:
“One of the beautiful things about marriage is that whilst two lives unite to become one, you do not lose yourself in the other, you find yourself.”
Tear. Sniffle. Tear.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
It's business time - Dunno Part II
We love Dunsborough. So much so that every time we visit, we spend a great deal of time discussing when and how we can move there. This time I have decided I will become a full time writer. I’ll wake up early, walk the dogs along the beach, have an organically grown and locally sourced breakfast of berries and free range eggs, then I’ll head out to the balcony where I will spend the day ‘working’, overlooking the ocean. After a mid-morning nap.
Alternatively, we’ll open a wine bar/coffee shop that appeals to a gentrified crowd, sick of the young hooligans that now seem to have overrun similar ventures in town. Dean from Busso will not frequent our establishment. Preferring instead to loiter in and around the more ordinary watering holes where he feels completely at ease soliciting unsuspecting Perthites and other weekenders for money “for a set of boobs for this chick I have known for like 10 years. Well you know, I promised that I’d buy her a set of tits, so every time we head out, I ask people to help.” He explains, thrusting a middy glass containing a few measly bucks under our noses. We stared back at him in disbelief. I wanted to tell Dean that me and my friends didn’t speak bogan, or reveal to him that a good way to raise money was to get a friggin job, however being on unfamiliar turf, we chose instead to give him some loose change, hoping that he would be satisfied and scamper away, leaving us to pick up our jaws from the sodden carpet and pretend that never happened. But it just seemed to encourage him. What is that? When people have no comprehension of the fact that their presence is not required or desired? Dean went on to hassle our friends about why they were not yet engaged. The wench with the small tits piped up “OMG, I sell diamonds! I’ll do you a deal. I work at Garden City, come see me.” What? So you do have a job? Good on you for that. Obviously you don’t sell enough diamonds to buy yourself a pair of tits though.
These seem like the kind of people that might want to try and crash our wedding after party at castle rock car park with our DJ mate.
Anyway, if the wine bar thing didn’t work out, I’m sure we could find something else to do in town. There already appears to be a sufficient number of surf shops and clothing boutiques, bakeries and coffee shops. Our neighbours out at Dunsborough Lakes already had the mobile rock climbing wall business covered, so that was out.
After a particularly interesting cultural exchange whilst dining at Wise the previous day, when our French waiter served Fiance an interesting looking dessert plated in such a way, that the kitchen had described simply as ‘Viking Pussy’ and suggested that Frenchie use this expression when presenting the food. “My English is not so known but the kitchen people tell me that you might try this before. It is how you say – Viking Pussy? So I hope you enjoy.” He later was told what he had just said and spent the rest of the afternoon apologising profusely. “I’m sorry. Thank you for apologising me,” He said. Sooo, Fiance suggested that perhaps I could simply return to my university days and become a waitress. I could after all speak and understand English, which doesn’t appear to be a mandatory requirement in the industry but it can’t hurt.
Event coordinator? Wedding planner? A liaison for engaged Perthies getting married down south. Wedding celebrants seem to be pretty popular down here – how hard could that be? Yoga instructor? But my favourite is to become an artist and find a place on the Yallingup hills and wile my days away painting sunsets and writing screen plays. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem that i have no talent in either of those areas.
I guess it happens when you go on holidays. And that’s why we go. To escape to somewhere amazing that has the power to make you want to uproot your entire life and relocate there immediately. It’s a powerful thing.
One of the big pluses about Dunsborough for us, is the picturesque beaches, especially the one that, when the tide goes out, exposes the shallow sand bank and the many little ‘islands’ that can be walked out to. Especially handy when you have two crazy, overly sociable Staffys. Ingenious of us to walk them out there through calf deep water and then let them loose, water locked, so they couldn’t run away.
They loved it, frolicking through the shallow water, chasing the seagulls, forgetting the water and finding themselves in way too deep, sploosh! Jackson stopped every now and then to pluck a starfish from the shallow water or chew on a piece of seaweed. Until he spotted another dog on the beach that he thought he might like to say hello to. He stopped. He looked at the dog, then looked back at us, a plan formulating in his little pea sized brain. Pity he was surrounded by deep blue water. He looked at us again, then went for it. Swimming for his life, his stumpy little Staffy legs doggy paddling like they’d never doggy paddled before. Fiance sprang into Staffy rescue mode as little Jackson became less and less buoyant by the second. We’ll never know if he would’ve made it to shore or not, I think it would have been a miracle.
So, although it wasn’t an overly productive trip wedding plan wise, it re-established for us why we love the place so much and why we couldn't find a more awesome place to get married. It’s not hard to figure out why everyone who lives there is ridiculously happy and friendly. Figuring out how we can become a permanent part of the scenery is slightly more difficult!
Alternatively, we’ll open a wine bar/coffee shop that appeals to a gentrified crowd, sick of the young hooligans that now seem to have overrun similar ventures in town. Dean from Busso will not frequent our establishment. Preferring instead to loiter in and around the more ordinary watering holes where he feels completely at ease soliciting unsuspecting Perthites and other weekenders for money “for a set of boobs for this chick I have known for like 10 years. Well you know, I promised that I’d buy her a set of tits, so every time we head out, I ask people to help.” He explains, thrusting a middy glass containing a few measly bucks under our noses. We stared back at him in disbelief. I wanted to tell Dean that me and my friends didn’t speak bogan, or reveal to him that a good way to raise money was to get a friggin job, however being on unfamiliar turf, we chose instead to give him some loose change, hoping that he would be satisfied and scamper away, leaving us to pick up our jaws from the sodden carpet and pretend that never happened. But it just seemed to encourage him. What is that? When people have no comprehension of the fact that their presence is not required or desired? Dean went on to hassle our friends about why they were not yet engaged. The wench with the small tits piped up “OMG, I sell diamonds! I’ll do you a deal. I work at Garden City, come see me.” What? So you do have a job? Good on you for that. Obviously you don’t sell enough diamonds to buy yourself a pair of tits though.
These seem like the kind of people that might want to try and crash our wedding after party at castle rock car park with our DJ mate.
Anyway, if the wine bar thing didn’t work out, I’m sure we could find something else to do in town. There already appears to be a sufficient number of surf shops and clothing boutiques, bakeries and coffee shops. Our neighbours out at Dunsborough Lakes already had the mobile rock climbing wall business covered, so that was out.
After a particularly interesting cultural exchange whilst dining at Wise the previous day, when our French waiter served Fiance an interesting looking dessert plated in such a way, that the kitchen had described simply as ‘Viking Pussy’ and suggested that Frenchie use this expression when presenting the food. “My English is not so known but the kitchen people tell me that you might try this before. It is how you say – Viking Pussy? So I hope you enjoy.” He later was told what he had just said and spent the rest of the afternoon apologising profusely. “I’m sorry. Thank you for apologising me,” He said. Sooo, Fiance suggested that perhaps I could simply return to my university days and become a waitress. I could after all speak and understand English, which doesn’t appear to be a mandatory requirement in the industry but it can’t hurt.
Event coordinator? Wedding planner? A liaison for engaged Perthies getting married down south. Wedding celebrants seem to be pretty popular down here – how hard could that be? Yoga instructor? But my favourite is to become an artist and find a place on the Yallingup hills and wile my days away painting sunsets and writing screen plays. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem that i have no talent in either of those areas.
I guess it happens when you go on holidays. And that’s why we go. To escape to somewhere amazing that has the power to make you want to uproot your entire life and relocate there immediately. It’s a powerful thing.
One of the big pluses about Dunsborough for us, is the picturesque beaches, especially the one that, when the tide goes out, exposes the shallow sand bank and the many little ‘islands’ that can be walked out to. Especially handy when you have two crazy, overly sociable Staffys. Ingenious of us to walk them out there through calf deep water and then let them loose, water locked, so they couldn’t run away.
They loved it, frolicking through the shallow water, chasing the seagulls, forgetting the water and finding themselves in way too deep, sploosh! Jackson stopped every now and then to pluck a starfish from the shallow water or chew on a piece of seaweed. Until he spotted another dog on the beach that he thought he might like to say hello to. He stopped. He looked at the dog, then looked back at us, a plan formulating in his little pea sized brain. Pity he was surrounded by deep blue water. He looked at us again, then went for it. Swimming for his life, his stumpy little Staffy legs doggy paddling like they’d never doggy paddled before. Fiance sprang into Staffy rescue mode as little Jackson became less and less buoyant by the second. We’ll never know if he would’ve made it to shore or not, I think it would have been a miracle.
So, although it wasn’t an overly productive trip wedding plan wise, it re-established for us why we love the place so much and why we couldn't find a more awesome place to get married. It’s not hard to figure out why everyone who lives there is ridiculously happy and friendly. Figuring out how we can become a permanent part of the scenery is slightly more difficult!
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