When we started venue-hunting, we had literally no clue what we were doing. On the outside, we tried to appear to be a sophisticated, knowledgeable couple touring each potential venue. On the inside, we were two clueless twenty-somethings wondering what the hell we were supposed to ask these events directors and catering managers to avoid awkward silences or complete embarrassment. After a few (okay, several) appointments, though, we started to pick up on what kind of information we were supposed to be gathering. To help you avoid the same slow-moving progress, go to each venue meeting armed with this list of crucial questions. Keep reading »
I’m not one of those girls who started planning her wedding before even hitting puberty. I didn’t create a pre-engagement “Someday…” Pinterest board. Nothing against those girls, but it wasn’t for me. I wanted to wait to plan my wedding until it was a real, tangible thing. (Not to mention, my tastes change on such a regular basis that, if I were to go with a wedding I planned 10 years ago, I’d probably cry upon seeing my centerpieces.)
That said, there are a few elements of my wedding that were decided well before the ring was on my finger. One of those things: My dad won’t be the only one to lead me down the aisle; rather both my parents will take that walk with me. When my sister got married in 2008, our parents walked her down the aisle together. It was the first time I had seen or heard of that happening (then again, I never thought about it before her wedding), but it made so much sense. My sister’s was one of the first weddings I had ever been to, and I just kind of figured this whole both-parents-down-the-aisle thing was becoming common. I mean, it was 2008; why stick to the antiquated idea of the father being the one to “give the bride away”? Keep reading »
Hitched, our weekly column about getting married, is back! This time around, we’ll be walking down the aisle (well, in spirit) with writer Emma Sarran, who will be sharing her thoughts on long engagements, the institution of matrimony and that godforsaken wedding industrial complex every Thursday.
I remember my engagement as if it was yesterday. But in reality, it was one year and one month ago. And we’re still not married. And we won’t be for another eight months. We didn’t go into wedding planning wanting a long engagement; it’s just how it happened. We got engaged in late October and started checking out venues in Chicago pretty soon after. By the time we started inquiring, most places were already booked up until November-ish of the following year and, since I hate the cold and have no interest in braving it in a wedding dress, we skipped ahead to July, figuring that would safely be in bearable-temperature-territory. (As I sit here, in November, with fingers almost too frozen to type, I feel confident in that decision.) Now that we’re “only” eight months out from our wedding day, I reflect on some of the pros and cons of a long engagement. Keep reading »
This week, my husband and I sat in a real estate agent’s office and put our first ever offer on an actual house on an actual piece of land that we would actually like to own.
“You guys are legally married, right?” the real estate agent asked. We said yes, we are.
“Do you have the same last name?” the real estate agent asked.
It’s a question I’ve become used to answering, and one of the first I tackled in the weeks after Patrick and I got drunk at the lake one hot September weekend and decided to get married. Keep reading »
What’s the kindest thing you can do for someone who’s getting married? Keep your mouth shut. I know that sounds harsh, but it’s true. If you’re asked for advice? Give it, judiciously. If you’re not? Please, please, please for the love of cummerbunds, hold your tongue. That goes for anyone, whether we’re talking parents of the happy couple or third cousins or that drunk dude at the bar.
When Patrick and I planned our wedding, which I will always remember fondly as being one of the most stressful times in my life, we were blessed with hands-off families and beer-in-hand friends who took their roles as sounding boards very seriously. The strangers, really, were the ones who gave us the most grief — the guy at the pub who wanted to know when we were having kids, the florist who couldn’t imagine a world without corsages, the saleswoman who told me I wouldn’t feel like a princess in a tea-length wedding dress.
What I wish I’d had then, and what I’m giving y’all now, is a handy list of phrases to keep in your back pocket for those moments when you’re so floored by a suggestion or bit of (bad) advice that you’re tempted to take it just to shut someone up. They’re all wedding-focused, of course, but I like to think they’ll work for anyone on the receiving end of a busybody’s interest. Keep reading »
I’m standing in the kitchen in my underwear, crying over a carton of fat-free half and half. I’m about to do one of those dramatic Lifetime movie moments where the emotionally exhausted woman has just had too much and she crashes to the floor with dramatic flourish and beats her fists on the ground. But I feel crusty cat food and coffee grounds stuck to my heels and I can’t remember the last time I mopped. In fact I can’t even name a single time I’ve mopped this particular kitchen floor, which prompts me to remember that the person who mops the kitchen floor in our house is my husband, Patrick. And then I cry some more. Keep reading »