Chevonne is selling a black and white flower-girl tutu dress. She is asking $65.
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After our first dance, B took to the mic again and opened up the dance floor to everyone. But after the first song or two, it was pretty much pathetically empty. Seeing the complete lack of party and seeing us making fools of ourselves trying to get people to dance with us, our photographers quickly swept us away again for a little photo session outside in the “golden hour” of sunset.
What did you do this weekend? I got married, no big deal. (I always wanted to do that.)
I am a wife, hive! It’s odd. It feels different but still the same; my name didn’t change, I don’t feel my relationship with Mr. Toadstool changed other than calling each other husband and wife every now and then, and well, living together now.
Our wedding day was fantastic, filled with stress and craziness, a bit of yelling, lots of running, hundreds of tears, even more smiles, and lots and lots of dancing.
I danced and ran around so much my feet hurt until Monday; we ended up having an improvised “day after party” after all on Saturday. Things went wrong the day of and there was a lot of worrying and stressing, but by 7:00 PM on Friday we were husband and wife. We partied like crazy and everyone commented on how beautiful and fun it was and how delicious the food and the cake was, so I’ll call it a success.
Way too many of our friends and family are changing their profile or bio pic to one of our wedding. My Facebook is filled with pictures of that day; seriously, I could start recapping right now just with guest pics, but I won’t—I still have some things to talk about while we wait for our pro pics, so we’ll leave recaps for after the new year. Meanwhile here’s a teaser from our wonderful photographer Alberto Alcorta:
We decided to have a first look on our wedding day for a number of reasons. Chief among those were 1) I didn’t want to blubber and bawl my way down the aisle upon seeing Mr. C for the first time that day, so I figured if I were going to cry, I’d prefer to do it in advance and 2) we both felt quite strongly about getting 99% of our formal photos out of the way before the ceremony so we could enjoy more time with our guests at the party.
While I finished getting ready, the boys were hanging out in the pavilion with some beverages, patiently awaiting my arrival.
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Brother P, Best Man S, and Mr. C having a chat. / Photo by Lindsey & Beto Photography
Remember the rain I woke up to that morning? The skies had suddenly cleared, so we decided to attempt to take as many photos as possible outside. Hooray! We had some umbrellas on standby just in case, but the outlook was good for at least the next hour or so. Beto asked Mr. C to stand on what would have been our ceremony aisle (had we been following our original outdoor-ceremony plan) and wait for me to walk up behind him.
Miss_TNK shares a photo of her and her husband at their destination wedding in Koh Samui.
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Oh hey there, hive! Mr. Wallaby and I went and got hitched a month ago, and now we are waiting with very very baited breath for our pro pics from the Big Day. But in the meantime…let’s talk about the Wallaby honeymoon down undah!
Mr. W and I got married on a Saturday night, so we had some free time to pack our bags on Sunday before my parents dropped us off at the airport. We boarded our flight to Dallas…and then our flight to Auckland…and then our flight to Nelson…and finally, after 24 hours of traveling, we arrived in beautiful Nelson, New Zealand (Mrs. Earrings’s hometown!). We hailed a cab to our hotel, the Grand Mercure Monaco (conveniently close to the airport!) and crashed harddddd. I think we slept for about eight hours before regaining consciousness and finding ourselves famished. It was nine at night, and our dining options were limited. We peeked into the sleek hotel restaurant and knew that our greasy hair and travelwear (particularly my worn-out yoga pants and bed hair) weren’t appropriate dress. So we walked 30 minutes down the quiet streets of Nelson to the nearest restaurant that was open, a small Indian joint. We took back some curry to our hotel, ate a little, and resumed our post-wedding sleep-a-thon.
Two exhausted Wallabies en route to Nelson / Personal photo
I will be 30 years old when I get married. I realize that I’m considered an “older” bride, statistically speaking. According to US census data, most American women get married at around 25 or 26 years old. I’m also one of the “older” blogger bees, although there have been a few 30-somethings here in the past (Mrs. Cauldron, Mrs. Mink, Mrs. Snapdragon, to name a few).
Recently, you may have read awesome entries from both Miss Bat and Miss Otter on getting married young. But this one is for the “older” brides and the “older” single or not-yet-engaged ladies. Yes, I see you not-yet-engaged ladies who are lurking around Weddingbee! No shame! I was in your shoes one year ago.
I am one of the last of my friends to get married. When I scroll through the class of ’01 on Facebook I see a lot of married people and I see a lot of babies. Some of my classmates and friends are now on their second or third child! And here I am, puttering around with just an engagement ring. No mortgage or car payment to speak of, chillin’ on some furniture from Target and Ikea. Do I feel behind the times? No, I don’t. The idea of having children still terrifies me. I have no idea where I want to buy a home and invest in a future. Luckily, Mr. Camel feels the same way. Mr. C, who will be 36 on our wedding day, has obviously seen his friends and relatives married off and having children for years now. He often tells me that after 30 he resigned himself to a life alone. He didn’t think he would ever get married and certainly not to someone he could be 100% himself around. And then along came me. Now here we are, ready to take that first big step: marriage. Marriage at 30.
Hive, I have been kicking ass and taking names on finishing off the details of my bridal look. In the course of eight days I bought my wedding jewelry, ordered my shoes on Etsy, purchased a new corset bra for under my dress, my hair extensions were purchased, AND I received my something borrowed veil in the mail.
Who’s veil am I going to be wearing? I’ll give you a hint. Not only is she a fellow fairy tale/magic generation bee, but she’s also a fellow weapons related icon. 
Why, yes, the lovely and gorgeous Mrs. Archer of course!
The veil I’m borrowing is her fingertip length diamond white beauty and I’m so honored to be able to wear something on my wedding day that will remind me of this wonderful community.
Since I’m huge tease and haven’t revealed my dress yet, here are a few photos of me wearing the veil with my tiara. Let’s ignore the fact that I have no clue how to put on a veil, let alone a veil WITH a tiara. (Seriously I had no idea what I was doing.)
I shared our ceremony details in an earlier post and now it’s time to take a look at our reception details! Cocktail hour was coming to a close and our guests were ready to head into the theater. But before they went in they had to grab their “ticket” escort cards.
Photos by Palos Studio
Our escort cards were placed on my DIY zig zag holders. They surrounded a “Will Call” sign telling guests to pick up their ticket to find their table.
We didn’t have a recessional immediately after the ceremony because we only had fifteen minutes to take pictures in the church before the priest had to start a communion ceremony. As soon as our ceremony ended, we staked claim of the pulpit for a few pictures with our closest and oldest family members.
