I’ll admit it – I’m a lucky girl. When I decided to take a risk and embark on a totally new career path back in September, there were a couple of weeks where I looked in the mirror and said, “Crap, WTF did I just do?!?” But I’ve been very fortunate and I’m incredibly grateful. I currently do some freelance writing in the wedding/ event planning industry, and it’s FUN! Even though I’m not the most feminine individual (refer to “10 Reasons It Rules To Be A Tomboy”), I enjoy doing research, getting lost in wedding blogs, and reading about people in their element of matrimonial glory.
Being submerged in Bride-a-Palooza has naturally caused me to ponder the whole tradition of marriage. I think it’s a wonderful thing, committing yourself to your spouse and declaring yourselves lifelong partners. But I’ve realized that I’ll NEVER be able to adhere to the more TRADITIONAL side of this tradition. For example:
1) There’s no way I can wear a white dress.
Let’s be honest. I’m pale. I’m practically translucent. If I wear white, it’ll be like I tossed on an invisibility cloak:
And even with a supremely dark tan, I’m still like:
Pale issues aside, I just don’t like the color white. I’m messy. I spill stuff. I trip on everything (refer to “Kimmy The Klutz”) and I drop glassware like it’s no one’s business. GUARANTEED my white dress would be covered in wine, grease, whiskey, Sharpie, mud, and someone else’s lipstick before I even make it to the altar.
I’ve always thought purple is sexy. And it hides stains. Sorry Dad, but you’re totes walking me down the aisle in something like this. Just accept it. I’m gonna be a Pretty Purple Princess.
2) There’s no way I’m going to wear heels.
Yeah. When I wear heels, it usually ends like this:
Does this boot make my foot look fat?
I’ve been a Chuck Taylor loyalist for as long as I can remember. The way I see it, I probably shouldn’t forgo comfort and style just to risk breaking an ankle. If I end up in the hospital on my wedding day, I want it to be because I ate too much cake, not because I need my foot x-rayed.
3) There’s no way I’m changing my name.
If Tronic was your last name, would you change it?
4) Diamonds are not my best friend.
What? You call this gaudy?
Glittery, expensive Tiffany rings are gorgeous to look at…but they’re not me. A radiant, flawless, 5-carat, $100,000 sparkler would get lost. It would get stolen. I’d probably destroy it in the garbage disposal. Or just forget that I took it off when I was taking whiskey shots, until I woke up the next day, hungover and panicked.
Now, a kick-ass affordable black ring…now we’re talking. Only $1500 to buy your way into my heart.
Black is the new…black.
5) Flowers: faux is my favorite way to go.
Nothing is better than the fresh scent of a new bouquet of flowers. But their life span is short. Too short. You can enjoy a lovely vase of roses at the wedding…but it makes me sad to think that the flowers die 2 days later.
Will my husband’s love for me wilt away just as easily?
Flowers made from felt, however..those will last foreverrr. I can have a rad keepsake from the big day. And they’re colorful, loud, and funky…just like me.
6) I want to rock my face off.
DJs need not apply. Yes, I love dancing to great tunes…but I want those tunes to be blasted from a live guitar, bass, drums, and a slightly intoxicated singer. There’s just something electric about the energy of a live band playing songs that you love. I want to jump around. I want to sweat. I want to scream out song lyrics as I hand the band shots of whiskey.
Silver Needle and Ex-Gentlemen, I hope you are available sometime in 2018! Can I start making song requests even though I’m not engaged yet? Also, if you guys could please start looking for powder blue or plum colored tuxedos, and cut off the sleeves, I would greatly appreciate it.
Don’t let their name fool you. These dapper, handsome gentlemen are guaranteed to make sweet love to your ears.
Yummy eye candy and will completely induce aural orgasms.
So if all of my matrimonial demands are met, I’ll consider getting married. Otherwise my future will look scarily like this: