There have been very few stressful decisions so far into our wedding planning. The time, place, wedding party and budget all fell into place rather quickly and painlessly. So I was due for a little nail biting and suffering when it came time to choose my dress. Let's be clear here - I love to shop. I am merciless, objective, efficient and realistic about my body. I can usually make it through the entire Eaton's Centre hitting five shops and one department store. I know what I like, I know what looks good on me and I know what I can afford. Unfortunately Banana Republic hasn't started making bridal gowns yet...or maybe I should say fortunately.
It's not that I wanted a simple and cheap dress, I just wanted something that was ME. And the ME that I know is none of the following: sequins, tiny pearls, ruffles, hoop skirts, crinoline, puffy sleeves or snow white satin. Nope, not me. Which is not to say that I won't like those things on YOU. But it takes a special gal to make some of those things work, and frankly I am not that special .
It took a total of five trips to four shops which included Beckers Bridal on the Danforth, Ritche on Avenue, Le-Ann Belter on Queen East, The Room at The Bay and then back to Beckers for the final reveal :) Thankfully my three best friends, Aunt and Mother are all still speaking to me after all of this bruhaha. It's a very surreal experience to put on a wedding dress and it kind of fucks with your mind. I swear that dupioni silk has hallucinogenic properties. Suddenly you start thinking that an eight foot train isn't that unreasonable, or that a belt of rhinestones is totally worth $350 or that the swan wrapped around your midsection is rather flattering. no, No and NO!
In the end I chose four dresses and took my mother and friend to see them. They chose the wrong one. Which was great because then I realized how much I wanted the one they didn't choose! They saw it my way eventually, we all shed tears and now it's all done. It's being made in Paris (ooh la la!) and will be here in five months! It's like waiting for a beautiful, silky, very premature baby! And I'm gonna love that baby sick.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Yah - you heard me right. [ugh...shiver]
This book was absolutely 100% fascinating and I recommend it to anyone. You might think that as a lady who has been experiencing her "lady times" for over 20 years that there would be nothing left to learn. Sadly, you would be wrong. In grade five they pulled all the boys out of class (to go have the boner discussion presumably) and played all the girls a movie made by Tampax. Well I was sick that day (probably faking), so I got to take the movie home and watch it with my mother and her best friend. They just happened to be having a ladies cocktail hour after school that day - which made the experience of the menstruation video even more enjoyable...for them. There was much chatter about the old days when they had to strap on "the belt" during their "curse". I was totally lost and began to think that if a belt was involved perhaps the belly button was too? Even more worrisome - how was I going to go to the bathroom when I was all plugged up by a tampon? Anatomy was not my strongest point.
So even after years of experiencing a period I still really had no idea what was going on inside my body. Where were these alleged eggs? Did it really look like the beginning of the movie "Look who's talking" in there? Why on the Thursday before my period did it feel like someone had taken the beats to my boobs?
And even if I did have an idea the author of the book claims that any female on contraceptives only has a "phony baloney period". Screw you lady. Walks and talks like a period and that's enough for me.
There's plenty of cool, amusing and downright scary vintage ads throughout the book demonstrating all the various ways that women have been encouraged to hide or deal with the embarrassment of their bodies.
Most of the ads from the 1950's seem to be aimed at shaming young wives into believing that their husbands believe they are filthy and therefore they cannot be loved. That shit is GRIM. Where's Peggy Olsen when you need her!?
What's amazing about most of the ads is the way that they address the topic - they never actually use the word period. In fact, it wasn't until 1985 when Courtney Cox was the very first person to use that word in a television commercial. Way to go Monica!!
All in all a really great book on what most would consider to be a rather gruesome topic. Read it, love it, then strap a belt on it.