Welcome to Polyvore!

Welcome to Polyvore! by clemmieblue featuring pearl jewelry

Welcome to Polyvore!

Welcome to Polyvore! by clemmieblue featuring silk dresses

Ritual Garments

Wedding dresses. They are ritual garments invested with a lot of emotion, and frankly some rather unpleasant patriarchal connotations. I don't wish to wear a dress symbolising my virginity*, nor one indicating how well off I/my parents are. White dresses, while also signifying purity, also showed that you were rich enough to afford a white dress that could be kept clean all day.

Wedding dresses today, are usually strapless white ballgowns, which all look alike to me. They are sold as being 'traditional', but in fact the strapless white ballgown look has only been going for about twenty years. Today's wedding dress, is in fact based on 1950s evening dresses; what my mother , who actually used to wear evening dresses in the '50s calls 'willpower'** dresses. Before about 1990, wedding dresses usually were more covered up, with sleeves and higher cut necklines. In fact I can remember the Domestic Goddess, who got married in the mid '90s scandalising some of the old ladies in attendance with her semi bare shoulders. In fact her dress was not strapless, or particularly low cut, but it probably was a little more 'bare' than many people were used to. She looked utterly gorgeous, in her sweeping blue velvet and ivory silk dress though.

So what do you wear if a strapless white princess dress isn't 'you'? We are having a registry office wedding, in June with a formal reception afterwards. And I don't know what to wear. I know I shan't wear a 'wedding' dress. But where does that leave me? Should I buy a designer dress off the peg? This is the option that most appeals to me, and yet it is surprisingly difficult to find something appropriate. Should I have something made? This also appeals, but I am very dubious about local seamstresses skills. I also believe in letting professionals do their job; I don't think I can design a better wedding dress than a professional. Case in point, a friend recently wore a beautiful, pleated, designer chiffon gown to her own wedding. I could never have come up with something as clever and original as that with a seamstress. But my own ambivalence as to what a wedding dress should look like is hampering me. I don't want a dress that is too evening-y, yet a daytime dress is too dull. I don't want a 'wedding' dress, but most off the peg dresses aren't special enough.

And there is the boy to consider. Generally, the boy has no input whatsoever into what I wear. If he doesn't like what I'm wearing, he usually has the grace not to mention it. But on our wedding day, I do want him to think I look pretty and like a bride. Recent probing as to his thoughts on wedding dresses revealed that he thinks brides  should wear 'big white dresses'. In other words, precisely what I don't want to wear. Logic tells me that, whatever i wear, he will think I'm beautiful, on our wedding day. And yet.. I want him to like my dress.

It's all so bloody complicated.



*That ship has definitely sailed.
**Because it took a lot of willpower to keep them up.

June 18th 2011

Well, we finally have a date: June 18th 2011. Hurrah, at last, at last. People have been asking me for 6 months if we've 'set the date' yet, and I've been looking a bit shifty, scuffing the ground with my toe and muttering 'erm, no not yet'.

Why did it take so long? I'm not sure really. I wanted to get married this summer, but the boy thought this was too soon. September is almost entirely taken up with the events surrounding a friend's wedding and in October my sister the lawyer, AKA 12 Angry Wimmin is off to Zimbabwe for several months to terrify Mugabe into submission. So that brings us to the new year and bloody cold weather. May was considered and then rejected as my future mother in law (Dotty) claims it's bad luck to marry in May. Which brings us to..June. The classic month in which to marry. I must admit, I never considered myself as 'June Bride'. Just thinking of myself as a 'bride' makes me want to vomit a bit. But, it is a time of year I love, there are beautiful flowers, delicious things to eat are in season and most importantly, our venue does not charge any more.

Our venue is the lovely Square Club, which is a private members club in The Berkeley Square Hotel. I must admit, it was not my first choice but as my first choice was vetoed by the boy for complex reasons I don't understand ('the people that go there are all cunts') we settled for The Square Club. But the people that work there have all been very helpful and we went round there on Saturday for a tasting and to meet with the head chef. We also had a wine tasting, which I hadn't been expecting and ended up getting a bit hammered The chef seems to be pretty much on the same page us - local, organic, seasonal (shut up. Yes, we are yuppie twats) and sent us out some truly delicious food to try. Plus he admitted he'd overcooked the lamb when I extremely hesitantly pointed out that it was more 'done' than I like it. Which is pink as hell in the middle.

We also met our photographer, the very talented Mark Simmons. Who took this photo, which I think is hilarious.

Frivolous in my Twenties, Essential in my Thirties

Inspired by a comment on this post over at Nothing But Bonfires  I started thinking about all the things I considered a waste of money or too frivolous in my twenties.

• Movers. I always moved myself before. Now... Definitely not. My days of humping boxes up and down stairs are Ovah.

• Taxis. The night bus just doesn't cut it any more. I don't want to wait for an hour to ride home with puke stained, half conscious teenagers.

• Very expensive cocktails in very expensive bars. Yummy. And the floor of the loos isn't sticky.

• Professional waxing. They can reach the places you can't. Nuff said.

• Posh make-up. Ok, this one I still think is frivolous, but I have to admit, the more expensive brands are better.

• Good quality clothes. Look, I still buy from H&M occasionally, but the higher end stuff is better quality and lasts longer. Christ, I'm turning into my mother.

• A really good handbag. See above. Lasts forever.

More to come I'm sure. So, I know no-one is actually reading this, as abandoned this blog years ago, but if anyone does stumble across it, leave your list in the comments.

So, all about Weddings

Poor Boy, he is so tired of my wedding jibber jabber, as P over at What Possessed Me puts it. And I am sure my long suffering bridesmaids must feel the same. So I thought perhaps I could come here and obsess about weddings without annoying anyone too much.

A little background.. the boy and I have been happily living in sin for, ooh, nearly seven years. We've had many a discussion about marriage, but no-one was more surprised than me, when last New Years Eve, the boy romantically said:

'Fuck it, let's do it.'

'Are you sure' I asked (I think, I was quite drunk at the time)

'Yes' said he

'Whoopee!' sez I, or words to that effect.

Cue much snogging and declarations of love, which I feel I won't bore you with. There are even pictures (drunken, blurry pictures) which I may or may not upload. Depending on if I can find them.

Criminy

I'd forgotten all about this 'ere blog, till my sister asked me to give her some the rude nicknames I'd used here for certain family members.

So what's new.. well I am gainfully employed and engaged! Yep that's right, the Boy and I will do The Deed June 18th 2011. Hurray! Am busy sorting the wedding out too, so perhaps this will become a wedding blog, who knows.

Test post to show mr dave how its done :)

Running a blog?

Shall I start posting again? Who knows. Maybe...

Speaking of running, I have started going for runs. Well, I've done it once. On Sunday. Which means I have to go again tonight. Great. My thighs still hurt from Sunday's run. I say 'run' - more like a huff and a puff round the block with my eyes glued to my watch to see if I can stop yet. I'm doing an American training program designed to get lazy bee atches like me off their fat arses and running 5k in 30 minutes within 2 months. Ha bloody ha says my inner pessimist. Not too blooming likely. My record with exercise is fairly abysmal, and I have a notorious lack of will power.

However my inner optimist has me running the London Marathon next year, so we shall see who wins. The smart money's on the pessimist, but you never know, I have started biking to work, which surely counts as vigourous exercise, especially when you consider all the hills in Bristol. My personal bete noir is Angers Hill, a short cut between the Wells and Bath Roads. I could bike the long way round, but am far too bloody minded for that, and insist on forcing myself up this bastard of a hill every day, despite my poor little legs pleading for mercy.

So you never know. I might be one of those people in tiny shorts with a thousand yard stare after the Marathon next year, huddling in one of those tinfoil blankets and eating a banana. But somehow, I doubt it.