A few words of motherf%*@ing wisdom from Shane.....
Don't have your wedding dress made somewhere you can't easily visit. This might seem obvious, but we had to learn it the hard way. I used a woman who owns a small boutique in Soho. She is a lovely designer but for some reason the dress was three months late and by the time it did arrive, it was only half finished, with crooked seams, tears, and everything from needles to hair and leaves caught in the tulle. Plus it wasn't even close to the design we'd discussed, making it necessary that my mother totally redesign, recreate and resew a dress for which we'd already paid quite a bit of money.
Later I realized that getting into my dress was indeed the only real hitch in our getting hitched, and that the rest of the night was fan-fucking-tastic and that's pretty damn fortunate. As soon as I saw Erik right before the ceremony, it didn't matter one bit that I'd forgotten to pluck one of my eyebrows because I was too busy being pushed and pulled and sewn into my dress by my superhero of a mama who barely had time to get ready herself. It didn't matter that I used the wrong gloss over my lip pencil, creating a grated cheese affect on my mouth during the ceremony (I promptly swallowed all the little chunks), because Erik looked fine as hell, and we were getting married. And that was awesome.
♥ ♥ ♥