For no other reason than I’m relieved to be finally making some wedding decisions, I’m posting them here. Because I’m an instant gratification girl. I don’t like waiting 10 months. Feel free to practice your oohs, ahs, and ewws, now.
The Color Scheme
Every bridal magazine will implore its readers, breathlessly, that they simply must pick a color scheme tuit suite. There is no explicit reason given as to why, but the implication is clear: failure to do so will result in the early demise of one’s marriage, global warming, and someone, somewhere, will punch a tubercular orphan and kick a puppy. While I’m generally anti-all that stuff, I’ve not exactly felt a sense of urgency on picking a $@*% color scheme. Slowly and lazily, I’ve settled on one. Pale orange, green, and a few pale pink accents. Sounds heinous, right? I think it will actually work. I can’t believe I’m about to use this as a reference point, but you’ll see the shades of orange, green, and pink that I’m talking about on this cover:
However, as soon as I picked my color scheme I realized I haven’t the faintest clue what I’m supposed to use it for. My reception flowers are going to be white. My invitations will probably be cream and black. I don’t have any bridesmaids. Maybe my own boquet?
Despite the fact that I don’t eat teh meat, I am not a complete hippie. However, I am trying in whatever way possible to not be a complete environmental Cruella de Ville with this wedding. It’s not “green” by any stretch, because an event dedicated to excess is by its very nature unnatural, but where I can…yadda yadda. Most notably, that’s with the flowers. Personally, I can’t support ordering a mess of cut flowers to be jetted in from South America then thrown away a couple days later. For starters, the labor abuses on flower farms are notorious and then there’s the wallop to the environment from having the flowers (typically pesticide drenched, as a double bonus!) shipped. So I’m going with locally grown, ceramic potted, white phalaenopsis orchids for each table.
Now, I would sooner get married at a chapel in Vegas than have a wedding “theme” like “Paris in Puce.” (Snaps if you can beat Johanna to identifying what 1980s television movie featured this as a theme.) However, there’s something to be said for some sort of aesthetic that binds the whole shebang together. Since both my fiance and I are reporters/writers–and since that’s what brought us together because we met when I started reporting for his paper–I’ve decided a few bits of homage to that could be just the thing. So I’ll have an antique typewriter and a stack of paper out for guests to peck out a hello, in lieu of a traditional guest book. We’ll use vintage typewriter keys to mark the table cards. And if I can pull it off, I’m designing invites and favor tags that use typewriter font. We’ll see how it goes. I’m going for “quirky and personal,” not “too cute by half.”
OK, I’m done now. Someone wake up I-66.