love like that

Maybe if I were marrying the man of my dreams, I'd spend a couple hundred bucks on a big fuck-off flower for my hair.

Or  maybe I wouldn't care if I were wearing a flower or a scrunchie, because maybe, when you love someone that much, none of the rest of it matters at all.


img: snippet&ink

What If...

So I made a wish on East Side Bride for a wedding time machine, and got some great comments. The below was my fav, and you know, I dunno...I've been secretly plotting out just how to do such a thing. It would involve flowers bought that day from the grocery store, a ride with my beau to a hotel in the mountains, a possible rendezvous with our friend J from Wyoming who's ordained, certainly some sort of new white cocktail dress (from where? from where??), liquid eyeliner, my silver heels, grandma's pearl clutch purse, her Irish hankie tied around the stems of the grocery-store bouquet, the fancy suit my beau proposed to me in, a Mac for our music, and maybe just a little corner in the hotel restaurant to canoodle. 



img: dolly couture
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I think this is a really great set up for a secret wedding. Go marry your hunny bunny on your own, in your own way and don't tell a damn soul. 

Once the wedding weekend comes along, roll with the punches and smile to yourself knowing that it's NOT your day (it's theirs) and that you're already married, suckers. 

Do it.