One Month Out

We are now one month TODAY out from the wedding day.

HOLY SHIT. The excitement is building and it's palpable! There are still things that need doing but all the bare bones are sorted - we've had 3 meetings with 3 different suppliers in the past week and with each subsequent meeting the picture becomes clearer. SO EXCITING!

There have been a few hiccups over past weeks that I haven't posted about yet, mainly because I have been determined not to dwell on them too much. Hiccups are becoming more stressful the closer we get to the wedding, not because they're BIG IMPORTANT things going wrong, but because there's just less time in which to solve them. What I'm finding totally helps though is knowing that we have backup plans in place and that my A-Team is on-call and excellent.

After tonight's meeting with our celebrant, I fully expect to have things like the schedule and runsheet all finalised, with the few outstanding bits being sourcing music, a couple of outstanding RSVPs, and sorting out the wedding favours. It feels like I've had *something* to do for the wedding pretty much since day 1 and it's feels weird that the list is steadily growing shorter.

Which explains why I'm suddenly exercising more - not to lose weight, as I'm under strict instructions from my dressmakers not to lose anymore weight - but to burn off all the anxiety and excitement and energy. Whew.

GUYS. I'M GOING TO BE *MARRIED*. IN A MONTH! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

An Introspection Regarding Burpturd Behaviour

In an earlier post, I'd brought up a few possible reasons why brides become "burpturd brides", which is my hilariously silly term for "bridezilla". It's a bit crass and rude, sure, but all in good humour, I think.

I'm sure you've figured it out by reading between the lines, but I am deathly afraid of being thought of as a burpturd bride. I don't want to cause a fuss, I don't want to put my foot down, I don't want to be demanding. I am terrified at the prospect of someone even thinking anything that resembles: "ugh, bridezilla".

There have been a number of incidents where that fear popped up as an issue, and the one I'll use as an example is the hiccup regarding the Dorothy shoes.

The poignant part of that post is that I was going to wedge a chunk of newspaper into my wedding shoes just so that they could fit "well enough" for me to walk down the aisle. I really was! I had the paper in my hand, all scrunched up and ready to go! I absolutely did not want to return them and I did not want to call them to let them know something was wrong. My first instinct was to jury-rig it into being functional, even if it couldn't be perfect.

Initially, I blamed that behaviour on, well, myself. Sheer laziness, for one thing. It was going to be too much trouble to go to the post office to send the shoes back, too much trouble to negotiate for replacement shoes to be sent to me before I send mine back (as I needed them for a dress fitting and it wasn't clear the new ones would make it in time), too much trouble to solve the problem. And for another thing, it was probably my fault anyway for not sizing my feet properly.

It didn't occur to me until after I'd written that hiccup post that, hang on, was it really just about all that? Or was there something else I'd been smashing down and ignoring since the moment I said "yes" to Blake in a room full of candles and flowers?

As I eventually concluded, I was also terrified at the possibility that someone at Shoes of Prey - or literally anyone else - would think I was a burpturd bride.

This is, as you've likely already spotted, a completely irrational thing to worry about, because the shoes just don't fit! They need to be fixed! There is nothing overly burpturdy about wanting shoes that fit! Stop being ridiculous!

But then, it was the same with the flowers. My florist came back with an in-progress photo of the flowers I've ordered, and while she nailed the bridal bouquet, a few of the other items weren't 100% to my liking. My first instinct? To make myself be okay with them, because clearly I'd fucked up when putting the order in somehow! Those flowers don't really look that odd poking out of the posy, do they? They're fine.

If you're starting to feel a bit of sympathy for Blake, good.

I am so bad at giving anyone negative feedback on something that is subjective. Add on the fact that I want to be remembered by everyone as "that really cool laidback relaxed bride we had at the end of 2014" rather than a "bridezilla", and it's almost enough for a weird internal meltdown. I also like deferring to expertise so when suppliers come back with something I don't quite like, I blame it on my own bad taste. My first instinct is never to demand they change or fix it right away, it's usually to hem and haw about how it's really not that bad and maybe it's not them, it's me!

I'm getting a bit better at asserting my preferences. My parents, through repeat discussions on the Chan-Clan-household-mandatory-text Dale Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People, have long instilled in me a belief that there is a way to be assertive without being rude or demanding, though I don't always bother with that unless the occasion calls for it. Well, those skills are certainly being used to their maximum these days. I mean, I will go burpturd on a vendor or supplier if warranted, but 100% of the time it's a last resort. As I've been taught, any one can yell or demean or criticize to get the outcome that they want - and it probably works very well! But my conscience drives me to try to be a classier, more understanding customer. Shoot, if I were a vendor, whose bouquet/makeup/hair/dress/photos is going to get more time and effort from me because I want to put in more, rather than because I have to?

Before I start sounding too pompous, I will acknowledge that there's certainly room for cynicism here. There are plenty of people who will prioritize the loudest and most difficult customers because they're the ones that will bring the bad press, at the expense of the customer who is more understanding and forgiving. Absolutely. But I'd rather be the flexible and more relaxed customer than the burpturdy one by a long shot, because I'll be a bit happier with imperfection than a burpturdy person is likely to be with something perfect.

Hiccup the Third: The Dorothy Shoes

I really have to thank one of my coworkers for coining the term "Dorothy shoes". If you know nothing about them at all, that's an excellent clue, even though I totally reference them in an earlier blog post.

I ordered my wedding shoes from Shoes of Prey, who let you customise the style of your shoe within certain parameters. This was mainly to ensure that I had a style and color that I liked. I placed the order back in August (after spending 2 weeks agonising over how high the heels should be) and they arrived in late September. Within 4 weeks, as advertised.

I slipped into them and right away I loved how they looked and felt. I was worried they wouldn't fit but I could totally get my feet into them, hooray! But then, as my heartbeat returned to its normal rate, I realised with a great sadness that the more I wore them, the more I was beginning to notice a problem.

I didn't spot it at first, but effectively the shoes are a full size too big. Sticking my foot right back into the heel where it should be left a good amount of space between the toe of the shoe and my own toes. Not a good look nor a comfortable fit on an important day, I guess.

The thing that makes me laugh these days is that I actually considered just running with it. Grab some bubble wrap and squish it into the heel area, surely that'll do the trick and no one will be the wiser. The shoes will be hidden by the dress anyway, who cares if they don't look perfect? So I might roll my ankle on my wedding day, I do that all the time, would it really ruin the day?!

A thought - a realisation - crept in not long after I'd actually grabbed some paper and tried to squish it into the heel cup to see if that would work. I spent dollars on these shoes. Good dollars. And for such good dollars, I should be getting shoes that fit.

Shoes of Prey comes with a 365-day return/remake policy, which I imagine is part of the price they charge for the shoes. So why didn't I jump on that right away?

Because my dress fitting was in three weeks! (Two weeks as of the writing of this post.) That meant I needed to have shoes on-hand on the day so that the hem could be measured and trimmed. Even if they began to remake them THAT DAY, they're unlikely to arrive in time for the fitting (they claim a 4-week turnaround) and surely they're going to wait to receive my rejects before they even start on new ones!

I addressed my worries by doing something I rarely do anymore in this age of E-mails and online messaging systems - I picked up the phone and called someone.

The solution I managed to negotiate was that they'd get started on the new shoes straight away and try to get them to be before the fitting. Meanwhile, they'll let me keep the current ones to use for the fitting just in case they don't make it. I'm pretty psyched about this option and I think they agreed to it because I sent them photos of how they just didn't fit and they know I'm not full of crap.

Now, I'd written most of this post a couple of weeks ago, when the shoes first arrived. As of the time of this post's publication on the blog, my shoes are due to arrive this Thursday, in plenty of time before the fitting. Hooray! So, provided the shoes actually come in then and are the right size, I'm definitely giving Shoes of Prey an A+ for customer service.