F* the trash the dress shoot

This is not happening for me today. I was on the list but somehow I fell off.

Maybe the universe sensed my ambivalence. Or maybe the organizer read about my ambivalence on this blog. (Brilliant idea giving him the link.)

Anyhoo, glad I didn't drop $100 on ebay for a leather pilot's helmet. Though I would love to have a leather pilot's helmet. Seriously.

(Photo by Air Adam)

I'm pretty sure I need these

For the shoot. Damn you Hollister Hovey.

Should I trash the dress?*

I signed up for this. The vain/exhibitionist bride in me wants more portraits. (I haven't even seen the first round.) And for free? With a vintage travel/air force theme? Plus I can bring H-town. Awesome. Right...?

But then these thoughts start churning through my head.**

1. What the f*ck will I do with my hair? This is not a great look with my dress.

2. Um, will I get approval on the photos shot by the however many photographers running around the air force base before they are posted on however many websites? Don't answer that.

3. Where the f*ck can I get a vintage flying helmet, and could this solve (1)?

4. Will I damage my dress? I really don't want to damage my dress. And does that mean I'm violating the spirit of trash-the-dress?

5. Would goggles wreck my makeup?

6. Do I care?

7. Am I deluding myself to think that any of the photographers running around the air force base would even want to shoot me? (My dress is not poofy, after all. It is not quintessentially bridal.)

8. Who will sew me into the dress? Do I put it on at home? Do I try to sew myself in?

9. Will putting it on again ruin the magic, or will H-town be so excited that we get super-fabulous photos?

10. Yikes.

Please weigh in, you guys. I'm totally lost.

*DISCLAIMER: I would never actually trash my dress. I love my dress. I plan to wear it again when I'm nominated for an academy award (you think I'm joking).

**I have to give some credit to Suite B for this inspiring list.

(Photo by Jaques Henri Lartigue via Hollister Hovey)

I need boundaries

If I don't stay off the internet after dinner, I dream of blogging all night.

And if I manage to tear myself off the computer during the day, I skulk through meat space obsessively dreaming up posts in my head.

It's becoming a problem.

Wish I could say I'm unplugging for the weekend, but I've got guest posts to write for Polka Dot Groom.

(Photo by Laura Burlton)

Have I been using the f* word a lot?

I think it's because we just passed the two-month mark and I finally made a list of everything there is to do.

All your kick-ass projects are making me feel a little inferior, Peonies.

And yes, I'm aware -- you merry few who know me in the real world -- that the invitation really ought to go out.

(Photo by Fiona Carson)

Bad bad bride

You guys, I'm trying to plan a green wedding. We did a save-the-date website instead of mailing paper. We're serving my uncle's grass-fed beef and local organic vegetables. Picking wildflowers to arrange in recycled glass bottles for the centerpieces.

But last week I officially fell out of love with my dress. It was an $80 sample I found at Meg, my favorite dress shop, and it was perfect for the spontaneous Vegas wedding I wanted to be prepared for. (Can you prepare for spontaneity? There's my first problem.) But it just didn't fit the bohemian forest wedding we're planning now.

Yesterday I bought a new dress. It's by indie designers from the east side (hooray!) and it's f*n fabulous.

I have to confess, though, I'm racked with guilt about the waste (and the money I've spent). One Meg dress, two pairs of pink shoes (that will no way in hell go with the new get-up), one pair of vintage fuchsia earrings. I've decided to donate the unworn dress here. That feels better than just plunking it on ebay. I have to decide whether to ebay the shoes. I don't wear much pink, it turns out.

(Images courtesy of John Michael Cooper)

F* Wedding Planning

This captures my mood today.

Kamp Photography of Winnipeg, Manitoba featured on Trash The Dress.