Happy weekday, everybody. Things going well? Yeah? Have you gotten around to scheduling your annual physical yet? How about brushing; you brushing? Remember; not too hard, not too soft. And underwear – you’re wearing some, right? Ok I trust you.
Ok SO! This post is essentially a decree regarding how I’d like people to show up to my wedding, using what I found after doing hours and hours of *research* on Lulus. Because sometimes you get carried away. But first… I’ve at least gotta make a note, of some recent “celebrity” news: I’m assuming you’ve heard by now, that Kristen Stewart apparently cheated on her boyfriend Robert Pattinson, with her Snow White and the Huntsman director Rupert Sanders, who happens to be a married father of two young kids.
So I would just like to share a few things:
Number 1: SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGH.
Number 2: hey look, sometime before the scandal hit the news Rupert Sanders went around saying this about KStew: “She played such a good version Bella Swan, people think Kristen Stewart is Bella Swan. She’s not, you know? If you meet Kristen, she’s wildly kind of giggly and vivacious and rebellious and naughty—all things that Bella Swan isn’t.”
Number 3: I wouldn’t have even made mention of this “news” if it weren’t for the fact that there are young children, and a wife, involved. And at the core of it a man – a smart, older man who knows better. And who thought nothing of the impact this situation would have on his wife, his kids, and the life of the young starlet he got it on with. I have trouble finding fault with Kristen Stewart, beyond her allowing herself to act on desires without considering all of the people it would impact. But it’s hard to feel surprised when you consider how out of touch she is. It’s obvious she has issues in her life. I’m not going to assume I know what they are. All I know is she makes the kinds of faces I used to make when I was a tween, when I was still extremely uncomfortable in my own skin. She’s young, she’s new, she “had everything going for her” — and now she’s that actress who got it on with an old, married father. There is something more to this girl that nobody knows and I’m not even sure she does. Anyway, my two cents.
Ok back to the positive stuff now.
I’ve been thinking about dress codes for a while, and I think I came up with a decent idea, specifically for getting people to show up looking sufficiently fancy pantsy. (Not yet sure if I’m gonna employ it at my own wedding, ’cause I wanna get your thoughts first.) So many people struggle with conveying to their guests exactly what’s appropriate/preferred and what’s not. It’s an unnecessary anguish that I wanna address somehow. So; what if we start a new thing where you have some sort of Best Dressed Guest award, and the winner gets a prize/can push the bride into the pool at the end of the reception/wins immunity and can remain on the island? Sorry, I’m being silly, but you get me on this, right? Anyway is it stupid in your opinion? Or F**KING GENIUS. ;) Aright cool, lemme know.
Ok a disclaimer before we get into the meat of this post: One thing you probably already know about me is that I’m in the habit of blogging things I either really love and appreciate, or am desperate to mock. So just because I may like something or w-evs, it doesn’t mean I’m saying I need you to start liking it or else. Because DOY. But also because I am a sincere proponent of people generally doing what they like to do. The dress code you decide to enforce strictly and without mercy upon family and friends is YOUR business, not mine. All I can say is dress codes are important if the pictures you’re spending good money for matter to you at all. Alright we’re done here. Signed, Captain Obvious.
Here’s a cute thing Bambino and I like to do: sometimes he’ll look up me at my desk, as if to say, “you are a huge bitch, hang out with me more.” And then I usually drop everything for him. (Repeat seven times a day.) Well. After finding an area of the floor he had not yet covered in his sneeze blasts, Bams and I cuddled up as usual under the sunlight streaming through the blinds I had partially drawn to keep the apartment cool. (I leave the blinds slightly open though regardless of how hot it is because this frenchie’s favorite thing in the world to do besides sniff other dogs’ asses is sun bathe.) Here’s the kicker: usually our daydreams are wildly different, which is understandable. Though on occasion, my mind will drift to thoughts of pee-stained sidewalks or puddles of pee or a tasty intestine-ripping stick and so we’ll dream-merge.
This time, however, was quite different, because out of nowhere we both started thinking about… get this… the fashion element of engagements and weddings. It was shocking, especially since I was under the impression that this happens only with girl french bulldogs. Suffice it to say, it was a good afternoon.
The whole thing happened right after I had finished eating my lunch, which I had prepared using the wild mushrooms Bambino had gathered for me on one of our earlier walks. Anyway here’s what we came up with as paramount:
1. Finding juuuust the right kind of outfit for your complexion, hair color and body type. Because not all dresses are made for all women, which is annoying but true. So– give me a well-tailored slightly playful frock with a sexy pop of color that’ll make my whole situation stand out? I can’t explain it, but a dress like that has a way of making me feel like I could move mountains. Like I could do that thing where you “have it all.” The right way, not that way where you tell people you “have it all,” but in reality you feel like “you have a lot of it, almost all of it, but the effort it takes to have all of it is leaving you too tired to derive true pleasure from any of it.” You know, that kind. The one that everybody who goes around telling people “you can have it all” has.
So anyway, that’s exactly the attitude I need going into a photo shoot. The blind belief that having it all is possible. Or, in more real life terms, that I feel like a hot piece of ass. Because ya gotta feel good about how you’re looking, if you wanna look that way, like, in pictures taken of you.
2. Having everyone at the wedding dressed like they came to party. hearty. And that doesn’t mean dressing like a sexually frustrated high school valedictorian at her first fraternity party. It means with your underpants ON, people.
Anyway here, check out my faves (from Lulus), because it’s time. Because what is a fashion blog post without any fashions (am I right, Dwight?)?
faves (in no particular order; some images not shown): Birthday Party Mint Green Lace Dress, That’s a Wrap Long Sleeve Mint Green Dress, Long Time No Sleeve Blue Jumpsuit, LULUS Exclusive Party Don’t Stop Black Dress, Southern Hospitality Peach Polka Dot Dress, Iris You Were Here Floral Print Shift Dress, Woodland Frolic Mint Green Dress, Sorbet Course Yellow and Peach Dress, Stripe Back at Ya Coral and Ivory Striped Dress
SOME FUN GOLDEN ARMOR (omg how lame am I to call it “armor.” lol you guys)
You know that feeling when you see a piece of jewelry, and you go from being this normal person, to being this person who cannot exist without that item of jewelry? That happened a couple of times today.
Heart of Glass Heart Sunglasses have obvious photo booth potential:
… because it just seems cool to have one of your guests walking around with spikes coming out of her head.
By the way: these things are usually all wrong for me, so I can’t figure out what it is about this collar full of sequins–oh ok it’s the sequins.
In the interest of setting up boundaries, let’s talk about what you shouldn’t show up in:
This is going to shock Honey, since the colors I often wear to bed have earned me the nickname “Watermelon,” but I am forreals not fond of this little look…
… unless the event is one super duper casual affair; in which case, keep the top but kill the pink puff and pair it with something more chill (other than these jean shorts of course-sorry)…
So, in conclusion, I need these gold bracelets:
Love it all or hate it all? THERE IS NO IN BETWEEN.
Also, any thoughts to share on the Stewart sitch? Quite a pickle.
xoxo - Alison