Having (prudently? foolishly?) decided not to hire a professional wedding planner, Mr. Lovebug and I went recently to our local big box bookstore in search of some DIY guidance. A recently married friend assures us that a self-planner is all we need to stay on track, on task, and on budget.
The section housing these frighteningly saccharine tomes is housed intuitively enough between Pregnancy and Etiquette. I figure an hour’s research in this row, and I have every conceivable social scenario covered, leaving me no excuse to violate decorum when my water breaks during high tea.
Apparently, wedding planners are pretty much all subsets of the sames species: pastel, flowery, and feminine. Imagine if your Filofax was the sort of Filofax that douched–that’s what a wedding planner looks like. Mathematically, that’s:

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And as you’ll come to know, I’m not a very frou-frou girl. So as I page through these books, I’m already feeling out of my element. And when I randomly land at “Month 10: Assess Your Looks”, I bristle big time. I really dislike the idea of putting pressure on women to reinvent their bodies for their weddings. If they decide to do so for personal reasons, that’s one thing. But for publishers to presume to tell a bride that her wedding-day looks are as crucial as the planning itself? That bothers me.
The page depicts a young bride consulting her image in the mirror with a slight frown, followed by a checklist of physical “areas of focus” to concentrate on. I’d go into depth and list them, but it was right about then that I slammed the book shut.
And it was also right about then that I made to myself the following pledges:
1. To take all the advice pouring forth from every corner of the wedding industry with a grain of salt, and to remember that all this advice constitutes suggested guidelines, not hard-and-fast rules.
2. To remember that Mr. Lovebug loves me for who I am today, not who I’ll be for one day next year.
3. To allow for a certain amount of Zen to find its way into the planning process, because I can only control so much.
4. To create a wedding that’s a reflection of US, not a stagey production where every detail was fretted over ad nauseum.
So yes, we did pick out a planner. It’s sitting on the kitchen counter. It’s very pretty, in a soft-focus sort of way. And so far, it’s completely empty.
haha, i think that’s the planner one of my friends used. currently i’ve got all my notes camped out in a regular binder with plastic sleeves and folders. so far so good. as a tomboy myself, i felt the same way whenever i ventured to that section. good thing the sports section isn’t too far off!