Weddingbee Blog

Mr. Caterpillar just told me that friends of his that are getting married the week after we are, will be featured in Martha Stewart Weddings! I am so jealous I could spit.

I finished finals Monday — barring any unforeseen catastrophes, I’m done with school pretty much forever, oh except for bar review, right . . . still have bar review classes EVERYDAY . . . stupid bar — and was looking forward to a week of wedding planning glory!

Today was the day I was planning on finishing up the registry. I was going to stop by Michael C. Fina and add in all the little things we didn’t get during the first pass. Like pitchers! I’ve always wanted a pitcher. Or a set of sugar tongs, the kind that have chicken claw feet. Or those bowls that don’t actually fit anything in them, but are nice to have just in case you want to serve someone a single pistachio. And I was going to put a cartload of picture frames in too. Our consultant suggested we put in a lot of picture frames because people like to give picture frames over, say, silver chicken-footed sugar tongs or the $200 canape dish Mr. Caterpillar had to have. I’m still not convinced that people are actually going to give us gifts.

What did I actually do? I sat on the floor of the apartment and dug through the gift bag I got from the Wedding Salon, trying to find uneaten personalized M&M’s. I think I’m ready for reality TV.

Mr. Caterpillar’s ex-girlfriend is coming to New York to visit some friends, and she’s already called around to various people (not Mr. Caterpillar) trying to set up little get-togethers. Mr. Caterpillar’s band is playing a show on Friday, and she’s decided she’d like to attend. I would rather she didn’t. Really, if I had my rathers, I would rather she just sort of disappeared. Like that part in March of the Penguins when the 100 mph Antarctic winds blow and the older penguins just kind of . . . disappear? Unfortunately it’s spring, so I don’t think she’ll actually get knocked over by anything.

The last time she came to visit, she was introduced as a “friend”, and, naturally, I was really friendly to her. For my efforts, I got, in turn, (1) stony silence, (2) monosyllabic answers, (3) bizarre condescension. When I asked Mr. Caterpillar about it, he admitted that they had been involved previously, and that maybe she was a little jealous. That sort of explained everything, except why Mr. Caterpillar wouldn’t have told me BEFORE, so I wouldn’t have actually spent quality time trying to talk to this person. Sheesh.

In any case, she’ll be here Friday. Mr. Caterpillar has offered to (1) call her and tell her not to come because he doesn’t want her there, (2) tell her that he doesn’t appreciate her unfriendliness if we see her at the show, or (3) any combination of 1 or 2 + other things that will make me feel better. Now, I appreciate the thoughtfulness of all three offers, but I can’t actually avail myself of any of them without appearing like a crazy shrew. So, I guess we’ll just go, and I’ll try to avoid her. Meanwhile, I’m kind of praying for a freak Antarctic blizzard.

I cannot for the life of me figure out what wording to use on the invitations. Mr. Caterpillar and I have decided to go a somewhat non-traditional route, and consequently have no guidance for what to actually put on the invitations that will get people to come. And the response cards? Even worse. If your invitation is relatively informal, how exactly do you stick in a “The Favour of Your Reply Is Requested Before —” ? And what’s with the extra u? It’s like weddings make people British.

I called Raj Tents for a quote after seeing Mrs. Bee’s post. For a tent that will accomodate my 125 guests + accoutrement (interior linings), I’ll need to squeeze about $6,000 - 8,000 out of my already extremely obliging father. I had originally budgeted around $6,000 for the tenting, but that was all-in, e.g. every last thing tent related + lighting + heaters. This would put me about $2,000 over budget. I suppose I could take the $2,000 out of floral. Do I really need eucalyptus swags if I’ve got an Indian-princess tent?

Incidentally, Maurice Walsh from Raj is extremely accomodating.

Mrs. Bee kindly invited me to the Wedding Salon at Gotham Hall last night, and I happily tagged along. The Wedding Salon is supposed to be the ne plus ultra of wedding planning events — the home of the $100,000 Kleinfeld gown and $500 gift bag. How could I not go?

We arrived around 5pm, and were serenaded by a man in what appeared to be fox hunting breeches and a 4-foot long trumpet. That became annoying in approximately 5 seconds. See? The Wedding Salon IS helpful! Within seconds of arriving, I had already decided I did not want a fox hunter to play horse race starts on a trumpet at my wedding! An excellent start.

Next we checked in, and because of Mrs. Bee’s star status, received VIP bracelets. Sadly our VIP bracelets still only entitled us to a single gift bag. Which, I have to say, Mrs. Bee generously gifted to me! Despite her love for all things gift bag, she GAVE IT TO ME! She didn’t even take me up on my offer to share. Saintly!

We started our rounds. It was crowded. I have seen crowds like this once before. Mr. Caterpillar and I went to Tokyo last August, and got stuck in Tokyo Station during rush hour. 2 million people commute through Tokyo Station every day. I bumped into every single one of them while trying to run against traffic toward a rice ball store. This was similar, except there was a live band singing a cover of Beyonce’s “Crazy in Love” and the lighting was lower.

There were about a billion vendors. I stopped at all the honeymoon/travel booths because Mr. Caterpillar has not yet started planning our trip, and I’d like to leave hints around the house as to how I would prefer the Four Seasons Jimbaran Bay to a bus travel trip to Niagara Falls.

The center of the hall was devoted to table displays, and it WAS pretty impressive. One of the tables was decorated a la The Firebird. It was like Christmas had exploded all over it — a lot of gilt, a lot of red velvet, and a lot of Faberge-style eggs. No, really. Faberge-style eggs.

I liked all the candlelight and the centerpiece on this table. The flowers are by Chestnuts in the Tuileries.

And I liked the napkin rings on this table. They had funny little flowers tucked into them.

Someone passed by and gave me an hors d’hoeuvre sample. I think it was a slice of steak on a baguette. It was . . . chewy. Someone else came by with a cake sample, but I was still chewing on the steak. I think Mrs. Bee had some though.

Two vendors that stood out: Doyle & Doyle and Bernard Maisner Calligraphy & Fine Stationery.

Doyle & Doyle has an enormous collection of serious antique/estate jewelry. For sale or rent. To rent for a day, you put down 20% of the retail price of the item. When you return it, you’re credited 60% of the rental fee toward a purchase. For week long rentals, you put down 30% of the retail price.

Bernard Maisner does some mean copperplate calligraphy. He wrote my name on an envelope with substantial swirling and whatnot. If I were fancy, I’d have Bernard Maisner do my invitations.

Next, we found the Allure Magazine Beauty Suite. Someone did my hair. It involved lots of hairspray. He wasn’t used to working with people who have an enormous amount of hair, so there was a lot of twisting and groaning. He snapped himself with a rubberband trying to get it around my ponytail twice. Mrs. Bee thought it looked nice. I think I’ll not be doing it for the wedding.

While my head was in the custody of the hair man, Mrs. Bee collected the gift bag. It was possibly the gift bag of all gift bags, barring any sort of movie industry self-congratulatory awards show gift bag. It came with an All-Clad frying pan! As well as loads of make up — MAC lip gloss, Lancome mascara, Essie nailpolish (in my favorite color, Mademoiselle), Amore Pacific skin care scrubs and polishes. It also came with . . . panties. They’re white satin in front with blue and white ribbon ties at the side. The back is completely transparent and is screen printed with “Just Married.” Rhinestones abound. Mr. Caterpillar thought they were frightening. Lots of food also came along — cookies and colored M&Ms, mints, and candy coated almonds. I gave the cookies to Mr. Caterpillar to review. More when he gets back to me.

Oh, and the $100,000 dress from Kleinfeld? Kind of crazy. It had a giant diamond brooch in the center of the bodice, and two asymmetrical diamond straps on the right shoulder. It also had ruching and lace and pickups and ruffles and shirring. So, if you’re the indecisive type, or you just like lots of stuff, this might be the dress for you.

You know why this woman looks so happy? It’s because she’s wearing jewelry from Satellite Paris.

Satellite is my favorite shop in NYC. It’s gorgeous; the pieces are gorgeous; the staff is nice; and best of all? It’s unexpectedly reasonably priced. They have a beautiful bridal collection — tiaras with pearls and whatnot! — but their everyday things are what I like best. When I had four bridesmaids, I was going to give each of them a piece of jewelry from Satellite. Now that I have one bridesmaid, I’m going to give her four pieces of jewelry from Satellite.

Earrings start at around $50; rings are a little less.

Satellite Paris
412 West Broadway
212-372-0017

I love McDonald’s. I know that’s supposed to be some sort of marker that tells society at large that I was born in a trailer or enjoy beer cozies or something. But, I do. I LOVE McDonald’s. Especially the Filet-O-Fish. With extra tartar sauce.

Mr. Caterpillar, however, detests McDonald’s. No distance is too far for Mr. Caterpillar to travel to avoid eating there. But today, my birthday, Kebab presented me with a McDonald’s gift card. With enough fundage to purchase SIX Filet-O-Fishes + assorted Chicken McNuggets and a cheeseburger. Now that’s love.

Clearly, I am obsessed with headpieces. Obsessed. Clearly. Why? I don’t know. I’m not even wearing one for my wedding (see previous post about complicated face for reasoning), yet I persist in looking at them.

I’m not sure how I stumbled upon these from Privilege. But the minute I saw them, I had to share them. They are absolutely the most over the top things I have ever seen. The weirdly translated page doesn’t offer a lot of information about them, but they seem to come from Gay Paree! Which automatically makes them classy. Or classy in the way the Venetian is classy in Las Vegas because all you have to compare it to is the Golden Nugget. That gold vaguely Greek one is my favorite. Maybe I’ll just buy it and wear it around the house. Mr. Caterpillar has seen weirder things.

Did I ever tell you about my extremely complicated face? Well, now I have. I have an extremely complicated face. There’s a lot going on at any one time. And to make it even more busy, I refuse to wear contacts. I wear giant, black plastic frame glasses everyday. So, this whole wedding jewelry/veil/hair ornament thing is proving sort of difficult to sort out.

But for those of you who have normal faces unencumbered by Clark Kent-like glasses, I give you the Cathy Waterman “Wheat Earring.” Available at Barneys New York for $3,690.

Back when I was in the midst of wedding gown purchase madness, I bought a veil on impulse. It was $625. I can’t remember what it looks like. I also can’t really remember what my dress looks like. Clearly I make good decisions on impulse. In any case, I’m now looking at headpieces. I love these from Bonbon Oiseau.

They’re simple and sweet, and handmade in Brooklyn of vintage ribbons and trims by Deborah Stein. Who is quite as lovely as her pieces. She also offers custom designs.

I like to do everything a billion years before it has to be done. Last week I informed Mr. Caterpillar that I would die sometime in my 80’s and that he would need to follow suit about four months after with no remarriage in the interim. So, the day I ordered my dress, I bought my lingerie. I was supposed to get something strapless with an attached thong. Now, I hate the thong with all my hating ability. I would rather have gone naked. Luckily, it never came to that. I went to BraTenders.

They require a credit card to make an appointment, a practice that I generally find off-putting; but, this is New York, and if I avoided everything off-putting, I guess I would never go outside. In any case, they have a $50 no-show fee that rises to $100 for weekend and evening appointments.

But, the service is pretty amazing. It’s just you and a fitter. She asks you to describe your gown; asks you what you’re willing to wear; and measures you. Then she brings you exactly what you need. So, instead of the bra-thong leotard corset combo I was dreading, I got a perfectly fitted strapless bra and a pair of Spanx-like bicyle short thingys.

BraTenders
630 9th Ave. (at 44th)
212-957-7000

Sometime last week I made a ton of cones for the recessional petal toss, but didn’t get around to decorating them until now.

I think I’ll end up adding a paper tag with our wedding date or some other little central visual. The vintage paper is extremely old and somewhat delicate, so I had to reinforce the area where I attached the ribbon handle. I ended up using eyelets because I like the way they look, but I could have just used some invisible satin tape and punched the hole through that. Or I could have used paper that was less than 100 years old. I think that’s what normal people do.

The cones themselves take no time at all, and are extremely easy to make. Without the embellishment, I made 130 of them in about 3 hours. And that includes the time it took for the glue to dry, that is, after I ran out of double-sided tape and was too lazy to go to Staples to get some more.

If you’re really time crunched, you can make some out of white paper doilies, which are already round and have a decorative top. Doilies have the advantage of being greaseproof, so you can put really anything into them. (If anyone wants a full tutorial, just email me. I can send a template as well.)

For the actual petals, I’m torn between freeze-dried and fresh. The freeze-dried are easier to deal with, I can prepare the cones the night before AND leave them out in the hot sun before the ceremony starts and not have to worry about them wilting. But, will they fly as well? Will they smell weird? Anyone have any suggestions?

I dragged my feet finding a photographer for the wedding. I hate pretty much every picture ever taken of me. I think I’m pretty proportional in real life, but in pictures I seem to be all face. Big. Giant. Face. The problem with being unphotogenic is essentially a problem of posterity. For ever and ever your children will think you just got better looking with age. And your great-great grandchildren will just be glad they don’t look like you.

This was the attitude I dragged around while looking for photographers. Then I found Marla Aufmuth. Her eye is so interesting. All her photographs look like art pieces. She’s definitely not a traditional wedding photographer, but I think she’s rather perfect. Now I can say my big giant face is art.

Among the many weird wedding rituals I’m trying to avoid in September is the traditional banging-of-the-fork-against-a-wineglass-in-order-to-see-the-couple-kiss madness. I think Mr. Caterpillar’s father was thinking the same thing, and has decided that we need shakers at the wedding.

I have no idea where the idea originally came from. Mr Caterpillar’s parents are very, very southern, and I can’t imagine there’s a lot of maraca shaking down there. In any case, Mr. Caterpillar’s mama is an absolutely amazing artist and has decided to make all 130 of them that we’ll need. I think they’re gorgeous. And they’ll keep glass breakage to a minimum.

You’ll need

• 2″-diameter kraft paper boxes; use larger boxes for larger shakers
• 1 tablespoon of beans per box (I enjoy lentils)
• White glue or glue gun if you don’t fear hot glue
• Optional handle (1 chopstick per box)
• Optional decorations (decoupage images, flowers, acrylic paint, stickers, ribbon)

1. For the Handle: Cut a slit through the side of the box base at the widest point for the handle. Cut another slit at the opposite side of the box. Slide the chopstick all the way through and glue into place. Let dry.

2. Fill box with beans. Glue shut. Let dry.

3. Paint box, or cover with stickers/decoupage. Tie ribbon on top and at bottom of handle. Keep embellishing or just let it go. They’ll look fine.