The good thing about having a herniated disc, a “possibly degenerated” disc, and a rather soul-crushing case of sciatica is that you can’t sleep more than four or five hours at a time and this leaves plenty of time for early morning bridal crafting.
As such, I now have a birdcage veil, a Juliet cap veil, and an ostrich feather fascinator, and yes, I’m determined to wear all three of them on the big day. I’m not sure how exactly I’m going to accomplish this (vertical stacking? Hourly costume changes? Stunt doubles?) but I’ve done the unthinkable—unthinkable for me at least— and have scheduled a hair trial for later this week.
A freaking hair trial.
Complete with makeup.
And false eye lashes.
I’m not quite sure what happened but somewhere along the way, between the venue shopping, the wedding shows, and the Macy’s Sip and Scan, I realized that no one—not even Quaker-minded adjunct professors of cultural anthropology—are immune to the enculturation process, or, in this case, able to resist the pull of the Wedding Industrial Complex. I’m pretty sure, in fact, that Pinterest made me do it.
But enough about me, at least for now.
My little brother got married last weekend.
Considering that he now has a wife and kids, I should probably stop calling him my “little brother” but what can I say? Old habits die hard, and even though I gave my consent when he and his then-fiancé asked my permission to “jump the line” in scheduling their wedding just a few weeks before mine and PIC’s (ohhhh the drama…), I’m still coming to terms with the fact that Tech Support is M-A-R-R-I-E-D. Especially because he always swore he’d never get married, and that he would certainly never have kids…
But there he was: standing there in his suit at our parent’s rental home on the Chesapeake next to his bride, vowing to love those kids and giving them each a ring pop to seal the deal.
There was not a dry eye in the house. At least not in the Echevarria-Richter house. (This is why I’ve adopted my mother’s habit of wearing large hats to weddings.) And the ring pops were color coordinated to match the boys’ bow ties. It was pretty much the cutest thing ever.
Actually no, the cutest thing ever was when I gave the boys their “Viking helmet” hats from Iceland, complete with historically inaccurate but oh-so-adorable “horns” made from (wait for it) sheep’s wool.
In the interest of not posting pictures of other people’s kids on the internet, you’ll just have to take my word for it but I’ll paint a general picture for you: dress pants, dress shoes, dress shirts and bowties, with the 5 year old’s “helmet” positioned correctly (one knitted horn on each side of his head) and the 3 year old rockin’ a rather unconventional one-horn-front-and-one-horn-back look. (He had a 50/50 shot, right? And besides, everyone in Iceland is very fashion forward.)