In case you haven’t clued in on how contrary i can be, here’s a thing for you: i don’t like the idea of marriage. It scares me, it bores me, it tires me and the very idea of it is just eye-rollingly dreary. I’ll probably find it interesting sometime in the future, like when i’m forty-five and when my milkshake has curdled and turned into milk powder, but for now, at twenty four, i don’t understand why i can’t live my life like Kourtney Kardashian.
BUT, exhausted of his supply of emotional firearms (i.e. bribing, begging, blackmailing, the works), my boyfriend, upon coming across the realization that he’ll never trap me into walking down the aisle without the help of chloroform, duct tape and some rope… finally put his foot down and delivered an ultimatum to my doorstep– on the literal first day of the new year, i kid you not. Whether i like it or not, he’s going to propose to me sometime within the next 365 days and if i say no, he’s going to be all “BYE FELICIA” on the next flight back to Jakarta and get himself a submissive mail-order bride from Turkeminsjizkistan or something. He’s only thirty but i swear, he thinks he’s milk or something and that he’s going to expire any day now.
Don’t get me wrong, i love him and i know 100% that he’s the one for me, but this has gotten me S H O O K to the core. To be honest, the problem lies with me. I’m terrified of pouring myself into the mould that society has carved out for the general population. Blue for boys, pink for girls.
And I know every marriage is different and that there are plenty of people who are genuinely in love and who have managed to get hitched without losing qualities of themselves and without gradually turning into maddeningly boring cookie-cutter wives slash baby-making machines (do not even get me started on my dormant maternal instincts if they even exist). But i was just simply hoping to go down a less-trodden path.
But hey! I also don’t want to be fifty, surrounded by my loom band creations, sitting in the corner of my apartment and crying to Taylor Swift’s “Back to December”, do you get what i’m saying?
Plus, it doesn’t help that my mum keeps telling me that i need to seal the deal asap because she truly believes i won’t be able to find another guy in the world who’s man enough to handle my sass. Like, mum, i am a hot commodity okay, how dare you-
But i have to say, ever since our discussion, i’ve started to think of the kind of bridal image i want to project and what kind of wedding i want to be remembered by. For example, do i want to be a sappy bride with a huge, stark white, flouncy dress that i can practically float on water in and walk down the aisle resembling a three-tiered wedding cake? How many people do i want at my wedding and is four an acceptable number (i.e. me, the groom, the officiator and Meryl Streep)? Can my wedding also double as a rave? If not, then can i get married at a rave? So far, i’ve come up with about eight answers per question. Here are some of the answers.
- What kind of dress do i want?
a) I high-key want to be a classy hippie bride with a garden wedding à la Olivia Palermo, skorts, messy “i just ran through the woods in slow-motion” hair, granny cardigan and all. Then i’ll sail down the aisle with a simple bouquet of daisies and sunflowers to demonstrate how minimalistic and how unfazed i am with this whole wedding thing and my guests will whisper to each other about how zen and humble i am as a bride. I’ll smile beatifically and my groom will be reminded of how lucky he is to be with such a saint. IT’LL BE PERFECT.
b) But i also really want to show up like this:
I’m allowed to look like a beautiful, graceful chandelier on my wedding day right? In this scenario, i’d definitely want a discreet hoverboard hidden underneath the folds of my dress so i look like a goddess skimming down the aisle, no less.
2) What kind of wedding cake do i want?
a) I really wouldn’t mind a simple, two-tiered bouquet cake for display purposes
to gorge on myself after the event like this one from Rice Tree:
b) But i also legit could do with a cake the size of a Christmas tree, like this amazing behemoth of a cake made by LeNovelle, crazy talented giant wedding cake specialists who so happen to be based in Indonesia. I’m not even kidding.
Not only do i want it to be adorned by baby pink ostrich feathers, i want it to be adorned by baby pink ostrich feathers while sitting on its own damn cake swing. In fact, i want it to be able to sing to me as we cut it. It’ll make all the other wedding cakes look like peasants in comparison. IT’LL BE GREAT!
I don’t even know tbh. While this post was more on lifestyle territory (new category alert! “Realistically Speaking”) rather than fashion, it was just something i wanted to use this platform to write about. I don’t think i’ll ever be one of those people whose main goal in life is to be attached at the hip with some other person… i enjoy my own company too much for that. Because let’s face it: any old fool can get married if they’re boring enough to settle for anything and anyone. I just plan on doing things differently. So, shout out to the elderly, stop asking me when i’m getting married.
Fashion posts will resume by next week!