I’m the last person to use the “tacky” word. If you like it, and it won’t cause physical pain to others, then do it.
But I’ve got to say, this one is really pushing my limits.
Why yes, I went to Wal-Mart in Hawaii, saw a pack of bubbles and said, “Cool. Bubbles would be fun!” And yes, I brought some ribbon with me to tie on the ends for a cute look. And yes, when I opened the package up in the hotel, there was a big fat bar code and Wal-Mart advertisement permanently printed to each and every tube.
Really, Wal-Mart? Could you not have just placed your name and bar-code on the packaging like normal people?! Is it that crucial to advertise on poor little wedding bubbles?!
What do you think? Is the “T” word justifiable in this case?
While a normal person would have returned the branded bubbles, my girl cousins and I opted to make it the goal of my bachelorette party—the night before my wedding.
Armed with some pina coladas, Kahlua coffee and some special Hawaii-only pineapple Pretz, three lovely cousins holed up in the wedding suite to work.
First, we tried covering the printing with some cute tape I brought.
But the tape wasn’t so strong, and refused to stick to the tube.
Second, we tried using nail-polish remover to wipe the ink away.
But the ink was too strong, and while it made the printing lighter, it was still quite visible.
Determined not to let their poor cousin walk down the aisle to funky bubbles, Cousin T had the idea of painting the tubes. You know, because she just so happened to bring acrylics and brushes in her luggage.
No really, she did. I’m lucky that she’s an artist who never leaves home without being well equipped!
The girls painted red hearts and flowers over the heinous letters, and I think they came out quite wonderfully:
And thus, by 2AM the morning of my wedding day, the girls had saved the day.
See that bloody blobish one in the middle? All me.
It’s not really what most people think of when the words “bachelorette party” comes to mind, but I can think of no better way for a Sewing to spend her last single night, then by solving some crazy problem in the company of loved ones.
Oh, and if you’re wondering what Mr. Sew was up to, I got was a phone call also around 2 AM with a voice saying, “I have a headache and am going to bed.” Apparently he was made to drink two shots of something or another, which in his case was two shots too many.
Our wedding week in review: