My hair had just been fixed into a stylish side bun, all makeup was professionally applied, I had just pulled on my dress and buckled my ruffly Carrie Bradshaw-esque shoes when the wedding photographer called.
Her truck had broken down.
In the middle of downtown on a Friday afternoon.
Unfortunately, there are no photos to document this fiasco. However, there are photos of these brooch and hydrangea bouquets I made for the wedding, thus they will help to tell this story.
If there was ever a wedding that could get the award for having the most catastrophes, this wedding would be it and the bride would not disagree with me. This was the wedding of Ashley and Ashley. Remember, I made that DIY monogrammed tray for her? Ashley and I have known each other since Jack and Jill preschool. By the way, Jack and Jill preschool was the elite preschool in my hometown. Yep, you are talking to a Jack and Jill Alumni. You should probably ask for my autograph.
So, in terms of catastrophes:
First off, not only my bridesmaid dress, but the bride’s dress as well, both got hacked up by the alterations lady. And not hacked in a good way, like my Target dollar spot trays.
No, no, no. Both dresses were un-wearable. With my dress, it wasn’t a big deal, I could easily find another one. The bride’s dress, though, that was a bit harder to do. But, she did find one, a month shy of the wedding. *sigh of relief*
And a week before the wedding was set to take place, the bride’s mother was admitted to the hospital. After it taking quite a few days to diagnose the problem, it was clear Rosa Lee would not be at the wedding.
And then, there was the actual day of the wedding. As the bride and all the bridesmaids are sitting, fully made-up head to toe, sipping champagne, in the fancy hotel room awaiting photographs, the phone rings.
The bride answers.
There is panic on her face.
The wedding photographer has broken down in the middle of downtown.
Knowing what the bride had been through in the past week with her mom, not to mention the past few months with the wedding, I jumped up and volunteered to go help. Who else is better suited to push a truck in her bridesmaid dress than the girl who had gotten her own truck stuck in a mud hole a time or two?
I’m from the country, it wasn’t my first rodeo.
I could push a truck in my dress. But, not those heels. No, those were my ruffly gems that I had worn only once before. I removed them and slid on my rocket dogs, since my redneck Timberland boots weren’t readily available.
Rocket dogs and a ruffled black satin dress. Fashionable, I was not.
I crossed the downtown streets in my perfectly coifed hair and makeup and made it to the photographer without breaking a sweat.
Luckily, she had already called her daughter and husband in for reinforcements and the truck wasn’t too far from the hotel parking lot.
She suggested I be the one to steer the truck. No, no, no. I will not be the one responsible if this truck gets steered into a concrete pole or into oncoming traffic, which inevitably would have been my luck. Not to mention, I had had a few glasses of champagne. My mugshot would have been the prettiest in Just Busted (remember, I told you about that magazine here), but getting in that magazine is not on my bucket list.
The daughter took the steering wheel and I assumed my position behind the truck.
I am sure people who graced those downtown streets that day enjoyed the show.
Not just because they got to watch a bunch of rednecks pushing a truck.
But because my dress was short.
Quite short. It had been the only option though when my first dress was lost in battle.
That’s me on the far right. See what I mean?
And I had no other option than to bend it like Beckham a bit.
You get the picture.
Thankfully, my level of embarrassment is basically non-existent.
We got the truck into the parking lot of the hotel and I high-tailed it back to the room to fix any smeared makeup and loose hair.
And the day went on perfectly.
Of course, after that fiasco I went to the gas station and purchased a cheap 40 which helped the day to go on perfectly in my book anyway.
Don’t worry, I wasn’t the redneck bridesmaid sipping her 40 from a brown paper bag during photos. I found a nice little cocktail glass to pour it in. Stay classy.
And that was only the second time in my life that I bought a 40.
If you are wondering how I made these brooch and hydrangea bouquets, it was simple. Wire “stems” were attached to the brooches and I placed them into the faux hydrangeas. Each bridesmaid had one large hydrangea purchased from Michael’s and about 8 – 10 brooches. The bride had 3 large hydrangeas and probably about 20 brooches. I used floral tape to keep it all together and then wrapped the stems in ribbon.
Like what you see?
*All photos not watermarked with Golden Orchid Photography are from Beverly Key.