Sunday, April 20, 2008


bridal rant and ill-concealed use of words inappropriate to pretty planning blogs ahead.
Not for the easily offended.

As the oh so eloquent Nomi of East Side Bride put it, F* this.

Wedding planning is really p*ssing me off at the moment.

My Mum has just been over and after looking at our invitations has proclaimed that none of the 'aged' guests will be able to read them. Holding them at arm's length and peering over her glasses she managed to guess what most of the words were. She is 40-something and her definition of 'aged' rules out about 50% of our guests.

These invitations have been driving me completely nuts and the urge to throw them out the window is becoming overwhelming. We live four floors up, they would be so pretty fluttering across the street and off to the park.

Making them has been a pain in the taffeta ass and taught me that there's a reason people pay other people to do it for them. And I'm not finished, the damn things are never ending. The fact that about half of our guests RSVPed to the save the date cards and are going to be really confused to receive a second invitation is bad. The fact that they have been about twice as complicated to make and three times as time-consuming than I guessed is frustrating. The fact that they have cost about the same as it would have done to buy them is infuriating. But the fact that no one will be able to read them just about pushes me over the edge.

F* it. F* watercolour paper that isn't thick enough. F* printers that send you postcards that are the wrong colour and F* fonts that are too F*ing small to read.

Image by Kamp Photography and via East Side Bride, whose original post on the subject of wedding frustration was spot on.