My Own Private Rebellion

I'm feeling rebellious. Toward everything- even my own blog.

What I'm specifically feeling rebellious about these days is what I call the graduate school approach to weddings and planning, which can sometimes create a cold and exhausting climate within many fellow progressive wedding blogs. I'm tired of all of the analysis. I have no energy to read other people's examination of weddings through a feminist lens. I have no desire to roll my eyes at those who want to feel like a pretty princess on their wedding day. I could care less if someone chose to spend $20k on her dream Vera gown.

I'll admit it: I want to fly away from the nest I've made here in the progressive wedding blog world. Because, you know, sometimes you're just tired of being home.

Also, I've found that it's quite tiring to have a thoughtful opinion about the wedding choices of anyone but myself.

(Is this crazy? Is there such a thing as feeling too tired to have a personal point of view? Does a renunciation of thoughtful opinions sound totally dumb?)

Okay, here's the thing: I want to experience people's weddings (whether in real life or when surfing the net) as they are intended to be experienced-- as a celebration, NOT as a subject of analysis for my grad school thesis. Not that American wedding culture isn't a fabulous topic for one's thesis. But as enlightening and liberating as this approach to weddings may be, it's burned me out.

What's happening inside of me is a marked shift-- the dissipation of my need to prove a point through the use of another person's wedding as “exhibit A” in my argument. I am in no mood to be smart. I'm in the mood to be joyful. And although these qualities are not necessarily mutually exclusive, sometimes they are - especially when I'm so busy being conscious and conscientious that I fail to be present.

For the next few weeks I plan to bask in the glow of other people's wedding bliss, but I'll do so because I know that what the couple is about to enter into is a big deal, NOT because the bride did her own hair and make-up, the groom is a feminist, or because there was a taco truck present. I mean, those are great and all, and obviously, I'm a fan. But those kinds of weddings are not anymore special than the fancy affairs that traditional couples host. (I guess you could say that I'm tired of all of the judgment that comes from both ends of the spectrum.)

So. For Thursday's post I'm going to be featuring a wedding that makes me happy simply because I happen to like the woman who got married. I like her blog. I'm happy for her. End of story.

One day soon I'll find myself getting tired of rebelling against the mission statement of my own blog, at which point I'll return to my original game plan of supporting independent-thinking brides. But for now, I need a break! So you'll find that the content of Brave Bride over the next few weeks will be rather light. Mmm, k?

(Note: If you are a smart wedding blogger who has written about your own planning experience, and/ or has spared a few moments to read about mine, trust me, this post was NOT directed toward you! You're still awesome in my book.)


photo credit 

#9: F*CK Tablecloths!

                                                       Vanity Fare

Everyone knows I hardly EVER curse. Honest. But you know what? F*ck tablecloths. There, I said it.

I've got a $200 decorating budget for our wedding reception, and unfortunately this must include centerpieces, flowers, AND tablecloths. (Can you tell that we could only afford a no-frills venue? BYOT- bring your own tablecloths. Sheesh.)

For some reason, tablecloths can only be rented at anywhere between $7-$15 each, and when you've got 20 tables to dress like I do, you're pretty much screwed. Not even my Ebay, Craiglist, discount store, or friends-who-own-restaurants-with-tablecloths-to-lend search has led to a good find.

So. There exists something called paper tablecloths. You know, like the kind you find at children's birthday parties. At one point I thought I'd just have to suck it up and use them (despite associating paper tablecloths with stains from soda, pizza, and ice cream cake - the menu at every child's birthday bash). But I'm not sure if I can get myself to do that. Why? Because it would mean no:

                                                            Snippet & Ink

                                                Or worse yet, no:

                                                Image: W. Scott Chester

Looks like I won't be having the rustic chic, blog-worthy, indie wedding after all. But you know what I will be having? A $10,000 BBQ decorated like a children's party. (Sigh.)

I cried earlier tonight when I realized that we cannot afford tablecloths. I was literally driving around in my car at night, with the backdrop for my tears being the musical landscape of any depressing John Mayer tune I could find in my CD carrier. Dramatic? Yes. But to put things in perspective, what I was really crying about was the fact that I could not afford something so basic. I don't need a platinum wedding. I just want tablecloths at my party.

And then I cried some more because I realized how ridiculous I was being.

My best friend from grad school came to mind because she recently shared that she often cannot afford to pay her monthly bills in full. She pays what she can to Con Ed, to her landlord, and to her cell phone provider, but rarely ever the actual amount that's due. I think about what she'll probably sacrifice in order to give us a small gift for the wedding. It makes me want to insist that she not purchase anything for us at all. And it makes me want to write across the sky "F*CK tablecloths!"...and then go pick up some paper ones over at Party City and NOT be a baby about it.