The Un-Bride

He loves me - illustration by Zenija Esmits

He loves me - illustration by Zenija Esmits

BY ŽENIJA ESMITS

I know I said flowers weren't important to me when it comes to a wedding spend. That fact remains true. That is, except for a wedding bouquet. Don't ask me why.

However my conversation with My Florist took maybe 3 minutes and happened during a leisurely stroll last Thursday night. 

"Hey, I think I need a bouquet."

"What are you thinking?"

"What's in season?"

"Poo Daisies."

"Perfect, one bunch of poo daisies please."

"Cool."

"Cool."

I have a hunch I am the opposite of one of My Florist's recent clients. On the same Thursday night walk she regaled me with a story about a very demanding (massive surprise) couple planning their "special day" - Lets call her Blair and her husband Chuck. 

As an example: On the morning of My Florists wedding (in ENGLAND no less) she got a terse email from Blair. It read that their wedding flowers were very nice overall, with the exception of the Pew Bows (what the hell is that?) The Pew Bows made Chuck (no pun intended) physically ill. PHYSICALLY ILL people. The little bunches of flower and ribbon at the end of the church seating made the groom want to vomit. Really? If these are the problems you need to scold someone for on your wedding day - you are doomed. 

My Florist meanwhile was in England fretting over an unhappy client. She sat in her make-up chair and began getting bride-ready. As it happened she didn't particularly like the look the make-up artist caked all over her face. What did she do? She wiped most of it off. She said thank you to the make-up artist, PAID her and apologized for wasting her time. Class. Blair pay attention. 

Roll with the punches ladies and germs. It's not the ER. No one's going to die and your friends and rellies aren't going to notice the state of the effing Pew Bows or whether you got the full or half set of eyelashes. 

 

 

 

Posted on July 29, 2015 and filed under The Un-Bride.