Is it wrong...
...that I, Amy Nieto, have the day of my earth-shattering wedding visualized and planned down to the T, when I don't even have a male member of the homo sapiens species to marry?
What's that you say? It's normal for a girl to dream about her wedding day, even though it might never happen? Oh good, then I don't feel so stupid!
For as long as I remember (perhaps since I was 13 in 1995) the only setting I can imagine for my wedding is somewhere near a body of water, in this case, the beach (as in Ocean, not as in lake). I was born and raised on an island, for me the Ocean represents Eternity, which is what I want to spend with him. There's just nowhere else I can picture this day, the place that fills my heart with the strongest of joys. Ten thousand points extra if it's in my darling Puerto Rico, at one of the seaside hotels on the West side ('cause dats where its at, y'all!).
First things first, the ring. Y'all have seen it before, because I kinda mention it on every single entry I write (yes, I know first things first is the husband-to-be, but that hasn't happened yet, so.. whatevs*).
The dress.
Asphyxiating fluffiness and romantic elegance has no place at a beach...or does it. If the bride is Amy Nieto, why yes it does. Picture this beauty {from Martha Stewart Magazine Fall 07}, but knee-length. This a is beach wedding, so of course I will wear a bathing suit underneath. The real kick of it all is, the dress is actually a wrap, the giant flower will hide the closure. Once the ceremony is over (and three whiskies have made their way to my stomach), on to the water!! Me being a fervent hater of veils (HATE THEM), I would opt for a flower headpiece. How lovely would a gentle magnolia look on my wavy sun-kissed hair, as a homage to my past life as a Southern girl? *swoon* {Second Runner up: that vibrant lime green on the bottom left. Third runner up: Deliciously flamboyant {image from Elegant Bride via Brooklyn Bride)}
Just imagine this with magnolias cascading down set amidst the sand, the Sea and waves of love. All of you are aware of my disturbing fascination (ahem, obsession) with cupcakes, so it's no wonder my "cake" will be composed of levels and levels of delicious cupcakes made by my darling Cheryl Day from Back in the Day Bakery, my favorite bakery in the entire world located in Savannah, Georgia (picture this, now tell me you didn't drool just right there).
The main courses will be a combination of yummy Puerto Rican food and grilled food. mmmmmmm. Oh and lots of alcohol. Like lots, because God knows I'll be drunk all throughout. And I honestly want other to do the same, for I want embarrassing wedding stories to tell my grandchildren. Oh yes.
Also, there will be no throwing of the garter or bouquet, for the simple obvious reason that by the time I get hitched, ALL my girlfriends will have been married, divorced, remarried, knocked up, remarried, divorced...ten times over. TRUST ME. (Plus, I think it's one of those stupid wedding traditions that force a little bit of vomit to make its way to my mouth).
After discussing these dream weddings with my cousin, we concluded that our weddings really don't resemble weddings at all. They're basically beach parties where two people just happen to be joining their lives in holy matrimony. For reals. We're Puerto Rican. All we need is music, food and alcohol, we don't need nothing snazzy. Which is why I want a lo-budget (lo-fi?) wedding, that will allow me to spend thousands upon thousands of dollars on airline tickets to fly all my friends and family in. That's all I want. The loveliest people of my life, celebrating a day of joy by the Ocean.
Or we could just screw it all, buy a plasma TV and travel the world for a few months. Now that sounds more like Amy, doesn't it!!**
* So last week my ever-neurotic mother called me to inform me that she had the same dream twice that week. I was walking the streets of a certain city I used to live in, arm in arm with the most handsome, tall, blond man she'd ever seen. I seemed to be the happiest girl, without a care in the world, in the arms of this mysterious man. And he shared the same joy. I had to bit my lips in order to keep myself from yelling I KNOW HIM! I KNOW HIM!. Oh silly mother of mine, does she not know Brad Pitt doesn't live in Savannah? Silly silly.
*sigh*
** But I would still love to wear that fabulous dress up there. Pretty please?
What's that you say? It's normal for a girl to dream about her wedding day, even though it might never happen? Oh good, then I don't feel so stupid!
For as long as I remember (perhaps since I was 13 in 1995) the only setting I can imagine for my wedding is somewhere near a body of water, in this case, the beach (as in Ocean, not as in lake). I was born and raised on an island, for me the Ocean represents Eternity, which is what I want to spend with him. There's just nowhere else I can picture this day, the place that fills my heart with the strongest of joys. Ten thousand points extra if it's in my darling Puerto Rico, at one of the seaside hotels on the West side ('cause dats where its at, y'all!).
First things first, the ring. Y'all have seen it before, because I kinda mention it on every single entry I write (yes, I know first things first is the husband-to-be, but that hasn't happened yet, so.. whatevs*).
The dress.
Asphyxiating fluffiness and romantic elegance has no place at a beach...or does it. If the bride is Amy Nieto, why yes it does. Picture this beauty {from Martha Stewart Magazine Fall 07}, but knee-length. This a is beach wedding, so of course I will wear a bathing suit underneath. The real kick of it all is, the dress is actually a wrap, the giant flower will hide the closure. Once the ceremony is over (and three whiskies have made their way to my stomach), on to the water!! Me being a fervent hater of veils (HATE THEM), I would opt for a flower headpiece. How lovely would a gentle magnolia look on my wavy sun-kissed hair, as a homage to my past life as a Southern girl? *swoon* {Second Runner up: that vibrant lime green on the bottom left. Third runner up: Deliciously flamboyant {image from Elegant Bride via Brooklyn Bride)}
Just imagine this with magnolias cascading down set amidst the sand, the Sea and waves of love. All of you are aware of my disturbing fascination (ahem, obsession) with cupcakes, so it's no wonder my "cake" will be composed of levels and levels of delicious cupcakes made by my darling Cheryl Day from Back in the Day Bakery, my favorite bakery in the entire world located in Savannah, Georgia (picture this, now tell me you didn't drool just right there).
The main courses will be a combination of yummy Puerto Rican food and grilled food. mmmmmmm. Oh and lots of alcohol. Like lots, because God knows I'll be drunk all throughout. And I honestly want other to do the same, for I want embarrassing wedding stories to tell my grandchildren. Oh yes.
Also, there will be no throwing of the garter or bouquet, for the simple obvious reason that by the time I get hitched, ALL my girlfriends will have been married, divorced, remarried, knocked up, remarried, divorced...ten times over. TRUST ME. (Plus, I think it's one of those stupid wedding traditions that force a little bit of vomit to make its way to my mouth).
After discussing these dream weddings with my cousin, we concluded that our weddings really don't resemble weddings at all. They're basically beach parties where two people just happen to be joining their lives in holy matrimony. For reals. We're Puerto Rican. All we need is music, food and alcohol, we don't need nothing snazzy. Which is why I want a lo-budget (lo-fi?) wedding, that will allow me to spend thousands upon thousands of dollars on airline tickets to fly all my friends and family in. That's all I want. The loveliest people of my life, celebrating a day of joy by the Ocean.
Or we could just screw it all, buy a plasma TV and travel the world for a few months. Now that sounds more like Amy, doesn't it!!**
* So last week my ever-neurotic mother called me to inform me that she had the same dream twice that week. I was walking the streets of a certain city I used to live in, arm in arm with the most handsome, tall, blond man she'd ever seen. I seemed to be the happiest girl, without a care in the world, in the arms of this mysterious man. And he shared the same joy. I had to bit my lips in order to keep myself from yelling I KNOW HIM! I KNOW HIM!. Oh silly mother of mine, does she not know Brad Pitt doesn't live in Savannah? Silly silly.
*sigh*
** But I would still love to wear that fabulous dress up there. Pretty please?