This is going back about a month (my subtle way of letting you know that a month ago today, I married my favourite guy–why am I writing a blogpost? Because today we went for a long walk and then had a delicious supper and two full glasses of wine each, and he is snoozing. Not, I suspect, for long), but I really should tell you–at least any of you who like eBay or clothes or shoes or stuff like that, about the “topping and tailing” ordeal.
You know about the dress. Perfect, just me, all that. (Although, after viewing certain wedding photos, I can see why some of my friends thought our engagement was only three months long because we were pregnant. We’re not. There are multiple reasons why that would have been impossible. It’s called middle-aged spread, y’all. Not proud of it, but there it is.)
Anyway, after the eBay wedding dress success, I thought–well, why not the whole ensemble? Right? So I looked for shoes. This took longer. Nothing really jumped out at me, except shoes with insanely high heels or insanely high prices. Then I found a pair of flats, white, with a sort of Indian-style design . . . not bad. And not expensive, even though they were coming to me from Canada. I ordered them.
They were, from all accounts (including the number stamped inside the heel) my size. Except they weren’t. I felt like one of the wicked stepsisters. I couldn’t even begin to get my feet in them. That was dismaying. Even more dismaying was that, though the eBay vendor had a return policy, the postage to send them back would negate any sort of savings. I put them in the cedar closet and searched some more.
I searched retail stores, too, but there just wasn’t anything off-white enough, or flat enough, or my size enough to make it worth the purchase. I found another pair on eBay; they fit beautifully, but were not exactly the colour described–they were rather decidedly peach. I sold them on eBay again–not at a profit, but not at a loss either, I don’t think. Meanwhile, I absconded with the implements of stretching that came with that pair–those plastic bent-stick things that push at paper inside the toe of the shoe at one end, and directly on the heel at the other. I jammed them in the original pair of shoes and waited for them to do their magic. Then I went searching for a headpiece.
I didn’t want a veil. I mean, obviously. I was wearing a vintage hippie dress for goodness’ sake. You wear wreaths of daisies in your hair with those. And I love daisies. But I was getting married three days after St. David’s Day and I wanted to carry daffodils, on account of St. David’s Day and on account of the fact that they’re my favourite flower (which might be on account of St. David’s Day, really), so I was kind of hoping I could find something daffodil-y.
What I did find, first, was this lovely lace-flower wreath-thing that had supposedly cost over $100 and had never been worn (and if they were lying about that, then the bride wore it with the price tag on, so I don’t really think they were lying about it), and was now selling for under $20. It arrived quickly and it was beautiful, but, not surprisingly, this being a Jenn Story and everything, I have a large and oddly-shaped head, and I was not sure this particular headpiece was quite the thing. Also, it and the shoes were white, while the dress was decidedly off. (White, I mean.)
Then I discovered an eBay vendor who made custom silk-flower wedding head-wreaths. Perfect. I needed one for TWCN as well, so I’d just order some daffodil ones and have us wear them–matching. Her work looked lovely, so I was not afraid that she would not do a good job. I queried her and she was obliging, so I placed an order: two head-wreaths, one adult, one child, raffia bows, silk daffodils. Not a bad price for a custom order.
Why did it not occur to me that I should specify daffodil size and wreath style?
Because I didn’t know there were different ones. Of either. When the wreaths came back they were . . . lovely. Okay, they were well-made. And if I had been going for Tropical Island Princess with Daffodils-for-Some-Reason, they would have been perfect. TWCN’s actually looked quite cute on her, but her parents and grandparents seemed to think it was as ridiculous as mine looked on me, which, in ridiculousness, can be described as: If I walked down the aisle wearing that and my Paul burst out laughing, I would not have blamed him a bit. Thus Grammie’s (i.e., Mom’s) making TWCN her own, petite-daffodil, truly perfect wreath.
And my wearing the lace-flower wreath-thing. And the evidently-I’m-not-Cinderella shoes. The wreath ended up fitting just fine. I’m going to keep it and eventually hope to get a shadow-box frame and put it in there surrounding a wedding photo, like an antique I saw them pick up on American Pickers once. The shoes? Well, the shoes fit terribly. But they looked pretty good for the wedding, and when it was all over I put on my light-brown boots and put my shoes up on eBay, where you can buy them if you want. Here.