I never really understood the true meaning of “shit hit the fan” until we lost our wedding at reBar. Shit pieces went flying every which way—our wedding date, venue, catering, DJ, and cake were suddenly splattered turds on pristine white walls. We eventually booked a new wedding venue at The Liberty Warehouse, but as I mentioned before, I had a hard time coming to terms with the change of plans. Our wedding was supposed to be non-traditional and funky, with cozy nooks and crannies of old velvet sofas and mismatched chandeliers.
The Old PlanImage via Guest of a Guest