we all knew it could end this way.
come here, go away: the wedding edition

come here, godawful wedding crap. without you, i might never have known the cake topper joy that is mermice.

go away, get axl for our wedding guy. i get that brian herzlinger's my date with drew made it seem cool to solicit celebrities via the internet, but dude? that ship has sailed.

come here, indiebride, for sheltering me from the wedding-industrial complex and offering solid tips on everything from enlightened invitation language to a competent local seamstress. speaking of,

go away, special occasion lingerie makers. sure it's tough to build underthings that are strapless AND backless AND unhideous, but it ain't impossible. i don't want to wear nasty-ass stick-on...things any more than you want a quick punch in the kidney. see where this is going?

come here, veiled conceit ("A glimpse into that haven of superficial, pretentious, pseudo-aristocratic vanity: The NY Times's Weddings & Celebrations Announcements"). you soothe the sting of feeling too low-born for the times - and keep me honest when i feel like trying for it anyway.

go away, running of the bridezillas. no brides-to-be should have to trot through times square with steer horns on their heads, even if they're voluntarily whoring themselves for $25K from a reality show. would you sponsor something like that for, say, new moms? they're vulnerable too, and all.


mari said...

man, i'm sorry i skipped down too soon to help you shop for unhideous things, baby...you give 'em two punches for me, eh?

everyone always swears by the town shop, on broadway in the 80s, for this sort of thing...

lauren said...

they were pimped in the latest new york bridal issue, actually, so i tried 'em on sunday. a helpful-but-stumped saleswoman puzzled with me over whether or not we could trim some of those weird 'invisible' straps to hide under The Dress, then suggested i find a tailor who could build a bra into it.

town shop also had red thongs personalized with male name-patches, a la the ones on mechanics' jumpsuits. you know how i feel about thongs, but the thought of naming my ass after joe has, we'll admit, a certain appeal.