↑ STOP IT RIGHT NOW.
See that doorknob? That’s called detail-oriented styling, and it’s just one of the many reasons I freak, you’ll freak and we’ll all freak over today’s feature. This wedding is so many levels of pretty, I can hardly stand it. The colors, the perfectly planned details, the dress, the shoes, the scenes, the EVERYTHING. It’s sort of like a wedding fairytale book my niece would ask me to read her at bedtime, and then, when we’d finish, she’d beg me to read it again. ’Cause you just can’t stop staring at the purty pictures. Rhiannon is one of our beloved vendors, but she’s also a rad down-to-earth chickadee, and she rocked the crap out of her wedding, in true event stylist form.
Now, I must say, while you all know I wasn’t a wedding-dreamer as a wee one, I imagine Rhi and Andy’s wedding is what I’d be dreaming about if I wasn’t so busy playing sports as a child. I mean, really, isn’t this wedding the stuff of little girl (and all grow’d up girl) dreams? Because, seriously, I DIE.
Time for a quick Pupdate (← puppy update): our brand new furbaby is still unnamed. I KNOWWW. (I added that third “W” because I didn’t think one “W” was enough, but I also didn’t want to infringe on JWoww’s pending trademark.)
So, WTF, us? It’s been just under a week, and he remains nameless. I swear, he’s answering to “Boy” now ← this is not ideal. It’s getting dangerously close to a Picabo Street shotgun naming situation, you guys. (You know that Olympic skier whose folks had to name her with the quickness when they were crossing the border or something? Her name was “Baby Girl” for the first three years of her life, and legend has it that they named her “Picabo” because – get this – she liked the game peek-a-boo. Of course, that’s too adorable a story to readily believe, and it’s not true. Well, actually, it’s ALL true, except for the sourcing of “Picabo;” they actually named her after a town in the area. But that’s kind of the only detail of the story that wouldn’t piss me off, had I been that “Baby Girl.” They waited three years to name her, and then in a pinch went with a neighboring town? That sounds like an epic naming fail to me.
Anywho, all of your name suggestions have had the unintended effect of making naming our little Frenchie TOO DIFFICULT. Your name ideas are kind of all too good, I’m not even kidding you. So we can’t choose. And that’s when my girl Marit stepped in…
“If he’s still nameless and you don’t know what to call him – What about ‘Jenesaispas?’ hehe”
Marit, first, your new name is Creative McWittypants. Also, Jenesaispas (“I don’t know,” in French) is beyond adorable, and appropriate. The only things that prevent that one from becoming a reality are 1) his nickname would be Jonny, and that’s my older brother’s name and, 2) I would feel so highfalutin explaining that name to anyone who ever asked. And I know that’s silly, but I gotta do me. And ‘me’ is def going to feel high on the horse with that one. And so… the naming process continues…
And OMGI’MRAMBLING. And this wedding is too good to keep from you with my ridiculous stories and words…
Take it away, Rhi-Mix! (yes, that’s her NICKNAME. Well, actually it’s her official name now, from my perspective. How can I be expected to call anyone anything but Rhi-Mix, when that’s an option? Answer: I cannot be expected to do that.)
Le sigh. Our wedding. Where do I even start? Our wedding was such a surreal day that sometimes I have to pinch myself to remember it actually happened. I know uber amounts of brides say they sort of did it all themselves (that would make em DIY-ers right?) but I for reals really did do it all myself; which made for a rather bittersweet ending to it all that day for me. I look back on our day with fondness as I think I handled the task of balancing bride and planner pretty well. From picking up the cake and setting it up myself, helping set up the florals, putting together the Dessert Dresser, decorating our venue, making each and every little project by myself on those lonely weekends away from my then fiance who was 13 hours away, and then being the main go to gal the day of the wedding I truly served as my own coordinator; and got a pretty dirty look from my sweet hairdresser when I showed up nearly two hours late to my hair appointment.
After the wedding I spent many hours, far too many to be exact, feeling like I could have made our wedding better. It could have been fancier, more vintage, more blog-worthy, more diy-ish, more romantic, more whatever. I could have spent more here, saved more there. Done this or done that. I seconded guessed a lot of my decisions and seriously went into this post wedding funk that was so the last thing I should have been feeling as a newlywed. I wanted a redo. Actually scratch that. I wanted like eight redos. So I could do all the things I wanted each time on a different day. I wanted a better dress, sexier arms, a different first dance song. I wanted to do it all again with the experience I now had as a former bride. But there wouldn’t ever be a redo. Thank goodness for my job right?
It was until about mid-February (I’m a late bloomer) that I finally realized something. 1) I’m crazy (duh!) and 2) Our wedding, flaws and all, was perfect. Because it was ours. Did I mention I’m crazy? I was sitting on our little couch in our little one bedroom apartment here in Chicago and it sort of hit me at once. This sulking over the rain on our wedding day, and my hair which I totally hated, and the lack of a videographer, and whatever else was peeing me off, was total crap. Instead, I thought “Rhi, you are such a lucky lucky girl to have a loving family, supportive friends and a husband – a husband! of all things – who loves you unconditionally on the bad days as much as he does on the good.” Then I slapped myself. The silly little drink flags I made, the seating chart I glue gunned until my fingers were stuck together, the endless car loads (OK eight to be exact) of stuff I dropped off that morning, well none of that really mattered because thank the heavens, we are finally married. Which means permanent sleepovers for the rest of our lives. Bonus!
And in case you like it short and sweet, my fave moment of the day was immediately after the ceremony when my husband and I and our bridal party were all hugging each other. And my super tough buff friend who is always really tough and really buff, started to cry tears of happiness. Oh and I also loved my Dad’s speech. Nothing will ever mean more to me than his cleverly put together and incredibly heart-warming words. I also loved watching the 60 plus person Congo line that included my Grandfather, and hometown neighbors, wrap around our venue. Biggest smiles eva. I loved my veil. I loved how pretty my beautiful mom looked. And our cake! I loved that thing. Alright I confess. I loved a whole lot of it. Isn’t that what weddings are all about? Lots of love all around? I think so.
Ummm. OMG? I mean, how do you follow that level of gorgeousness and well-thought out styling? I don’t think one can.
Tell me, what’s your favorite element of Rhi’s wedding? I am LUHH-UHH-VING the ginormous balloons and the wide black lace used to keep them grounded. Seriously, what an elegant touch.
Hope you have the happiest of Thursdays, folks!
xoxo! - Alison
Photography: Amanda Wilcher / Styling and Design: Hey Gorgeous Events (Booyeah!) / Venue: Paletta Mansion, Burlington, ON / Dress: Enzoani “Diana”, Promises and Lace / Bridesmaids: J. Crew Lydia Halter Gown / Cake: I Do Wedding Cakes / Paper Products: Papertalk Press / Cake Pops/Macarons: Lemon Tree Patiserrie / Garter: custom made, Lo Boheme / MOB dress: Jessica McClintock / Love Mugs: Anthropologie / Earrings: a mall kiosk in Canada / Beige shoes: Nina – Gray shoes: Spring / Grooms wear: Moores