Wedding of the Century Part Deux: Counting Down

Well, that's certainly a new look in visual aids, no? I went from the brightest, most vibrant picture of Honeycrisp apples I could snap to the least colorful photo ever posted on this  site. A sharp left turn from bright to something that looks like a daguerreotype shot by Matthew Brady on his way home from Gettysburg.

That's because I'm trying to disguise what's hanging in the background: On the closet door behind the antique lamp in the guest room are three dresses that will be part of the mother-of-the-groom finery at The Wedding, which is now less than two dozen days in the future. (Yikes!) I promised myself I would not post pictures of the dresses until after the blessed event, but they pretty much epitomize my preparations so I did the photo editing equivalent of pasting a fake mustaches on them as disguise. (Tell the truth: Could you pick out those dresses in a crowd of MoGs? No, I didn't think so.)

My preparation for the wedding can pretty much be summed up in five words: Me, me, me, me, me. Also, me.

Because Boy#2's Lovely Girl and her mother are absolute dynamos of organization and creativity, and because all of the Best Men (i.e., additional Boys) can now dress themselves, I've been able to spend all of my anticipatory energy on myself.

These dresses represent six MoG outfits that were ordered, tried, and rejected (insert increasingly panicked look on my face as nothing seemed right) before I found the right one by walking into a store, picking it off a rack, and falling in love with it. Who knew that was a thing?

The closet door also supports a rehearsal dinner dress that was made especially for me by the fine ladies of eShakti, and a whole post will follow on that experience because I cannot express my love for them adequately in one paragraph.

And the dresses are repping the trial manicure, the two new pairs of party shoes (one fancy, one plain, both comfortable), the shawl I knit in case Boston weather turns cool, the teeth whitening trays, and the industrial-strength foundation garments that promise to make me look long and sleek and 21 under those dresses.

I think I have everything, plus spares of essentials.  Now it's just a matter of fitting all of this into suitcases and two weeks from tomorrow entrusting it to Southwest Airlines baggage handlers.

Just a few more days and those black-and-white dresses will be full color. We're counting down!