Vintage Gray Bridal Clutch
Well, hive, here we are. This is my final post before we do this thing. I thought in honor of my moniker, I’d mention how I’m observing the traditional bridal rhyme:
Something Old. I bought a vintage clutch in gray for the wedding day…my MOH will likely be carrying it all day, but it counts!
Something new. My lovely bracelet I can’t wait to wear should suffice.
Something borrowed. My sister is lending me this brooch to put on my bouquet. It belonged to our great-great-grandmother!
Something blue. My navy wedges are all over this.
And a sixpence in her shoe. I know the tradition is to be given the sixpence by the father of the bride, but rather than force my dad to buy me a European coin, I ordered one myself—but made sure to get one minted in 1953, his birth year.
And there you have it! Lastly, I found this advice ages ago somewhere on the boards (I tried my damndest to source it—no luck) and copied and pasted it for posterity, it was so good:
My biggest piece of advice on this subject, because things are guaranteed to go wrong. Set yourself a deadline past which you WILL NOT CARE about anything that goes wrong. I spent three hours that morning helping set up and organizing dozens of people and being kinda stressed. I decided that once I sat down for hair and makeup, after that I would just be 100% happy and not give a shit about anything that might go wrong. Sure enough… “White wine’s gone? F*** it! Mom was all stressed in the bridal suite? Oh well! It’s my wedding day bitches, wheeeeeeee!!!!” Best day ever 🙂
Well said, anonymous hive member user. I’m letting self-consciousness and weather worries fall away and focusing on the joy that is marrying Ben. And this is Sixpence, signing off as a Miss one last time. See you on the other side, bees!