Part of the reason this blog has been woefully neglected since Christmas is that I've been super busy being the best Maid of Honor I know how to be for my best friend, LilBRR. She joined our office six years ago and within six months of knowing her I was a better person. She believed in me when I didn't and gave me courage when I had none. I would not be who I am today (and I'm pretty awesome) without her.
So when she asked me to be her Maid of Honor I was, well . . . honored. Extremely honored. And glad for the opportunity to do as much for her as she's done for me. Or at least to try. The past six weeks have been a whirlwind of Saturday afternoon showers (three, one hosted by moi; it's a BIG wedding), Saturday nights spent with their family and friends, and sundry other get-togethers where we stuffed envelopes and tied bows on favors. It sounds like a lot, and it has been, but it honestly has been a blast. The bride and groom are so cute and happy and excited and appreciative; it's been a joy to be a part of it all.
Plus, I've gotten to be super girly: shopping for shoes, shopping for dresses, shopping for jewelry, tanning (just enough to take the goth off), plucking things, bleaching things, planning mani/pedi days, and, and, and . . .
Speaking of being girly, I decided a couple weeks ago that I wanted to wear a Marcel wave in my hair at the wedding. My dress has a similar cut as the white dress Marilyn wore on the breezy grate and I thought a soft, vintage 'do would do nicely. When I asked my hairdresser if she knew how to do it, she told me that hairdressers in Missouri (maybe everywhere? who knows these things?) have to be able to do a Marcel wave in order to pass their state boards. Sweet.
My style team came over Thursday night for a dry-run and, being back in tune with this here corner of the web, I remembered to document the evening for your voyeuristic pleasure.
And this is what it looked like when it was done:
It took me a while to get used to it. It's radically different than anything I've ever done with my hair, but as the evening went on I kept catching glimpses of myself in the mirror and I liked what I saw. ROWR.
Pizza Rolls: fuel for champions, beautifully coiffed champions.
No hairstyling party would be complete without Edward Scissorhands.
(I like what he's done with his image since the movie. Much prettier.)
The dress I'm wearing to the rehearsal dinner is hanging in the doorway.
Size? Juniors Medium. Snap. Thank you, spin class.
Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold.
And this is what it looked like when it was done:
It took me a while to get used to it. It's radically different than anything I've ever done with my hair, but as the evening went on I kept catching glimpses of myself in the mirror and I liked what I saw. ROWR.I love it and can't wait for next week. Three more work days. Three.
