It’s not. A raven is not like a bridal shower. Which is good, because Lewis Carroll’s intention in the Mad Hatter asking of Alice, “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” was that the riddle had no answer. We’re all mad here, remember? We don’t have the emotional capacity for riddles that have real answers.
I’m mildly obsessed with Alice in Wonderland. This is quickly becoming a really scary metaphor for my life.
Based on the amount my face looked like this during my bridal shower, however, mad hatter tea party was the perfect theme:
Photo credit to my incredible bridesmaid Lindsay, who ran around under my craziness to do my bidding (including climbing on couches to hang paper lanterns) despite being pregnant. Same goes for my equally pregnant bridesmaid Rachel, who spent most of the morning searching around my sister’s apartment to locate my head and stick it back on top of my shoulders. Every bride should be jealous that she doesn’t have a Lindsay and a Rachel.
If you do a Google search for a mad hatter tea party theme, you’ll quickly see that most people have really bent Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass definition of both “mad hatter” and “tea party” into anything generally crazy looking that sometimes involves tea. So when my maid of honor (who also happens to be my twin sister) took to planning, she fittingly went for a did-I-take-several-tabs-of-acid-before-entering-the-room? vibe, which was alarmingly successful.
The balled-up neon tulle quickly turned into a make-your-own-crazy-little-girl-headband station, just to make sure the room was scattered with people who looked as ridiculous as I did. This was also successful.
Straws found by Joanna on Etsy. Headband craft found obviously by me on Pinterest.
Obligatory shot of my down the rabbit hole outfit (dress and belt from Francesca’s, tights from Urban Outfitters, shoes from the clearance rack at DSW four years ago NO SHAME), which also showcases my further dedication to providing a multitude of options for head ware everywhere I go.
My mom and sister hit it out of the park on the tea and food and cheese front, and I was so overwhelmed by it all that I almost completely forgot to take pictures of the spread. Which is I think the highest possible compliment I could pay them. Luckily the incomparable Gretchen brought her mad photo skillz to the shower to capture the things I was too busy shoving into my face to capture myself. (Seriously, I think the majority of you only read my blog because Gretchen has told you to, but if some of you have not yet read her blog, you need to do it now or OFF WITH YOUR HEAD. Combining the Queen of Hearts with my current bridezilla is going to be a big disaster for most of the people in my life.)
I took this picture before the baked brie and cauliflower-cheese dish was out, which is very uncharacteristic of me. Not uncharacteristic of me, however, are the pistachio cookies I contributed. I have a Jell-O Instant Pudding problem. Somebody call Bill Cosby.
The party planners. My mom was full stride in nursing some awful flu-like virus, so this was about as open as I could get her eyes in a picture. Joanna has no excuse for making funny faces. She just does that.
My bridal shower was at my sister’s apartment in the heart of Southwest DC during the Cherry Blossom Festival, which means everybody who came braved either the 100% lack of parking or the metro full of lost and confused tourists, which means I have a very dedicated (and possibly masochistic) group of friends and family.
Jonathan’s mom and niece Mackenzie braved the metro trip from Maryland and somehow still arrived looking fresh and lovely. (Unlike me, who after my twice-daily metro commute looks and smells like I’ve just rolled around in a puddle of stairwell pee and sweat.) Also my beautiful bridesmaid Shelby in the background, being generally beautiful all the time, even when it’s by accident.
My friend Becky (yes; she did stand in the corner and make tulle trains for the balloons, which is only slightly as great as her gift–which she mailed to my house and then presented to me in picture-puzzle form at the shower), and Gretchen reading the mad-lib vows she created for Jonathan and me. During which she mentioned that Jonathan vows to never henceforth refer to me as Ted Mosby, because Gretchen knows her shit, and I love her arguably as much as I love Jonathan. P.S. Somehow Becky and Gretchen keep ending up in the same photo collages on my blog.
And of course my dedicated group of college friends: bridesmaids Jacki, Rachel, and Lindsay, and the incredible Colleen, who drove into DC from Connecticut and brought me a pink, polka-dotted apron, which you will see in the next picture. I can’t even. How do I even know people this nice.
Probably the only thing about this bridal shower more overwhelming than the food was opening the gifts. I’ve been to bridal showers before, so I’m familiar with the process, but it was straight-up insane to be…showered…with all the wonderful household items shaped like animals. I don’t really want to talk too much about it, because I finally managed to stop crying out of the joy of them this morning, and I don’t want to start again. Mostly because I’m out of tissues and am tired of feigning allergy attacks at work. Get your shit together, me.
You may recognize that giraffe tea kettle. Jonathan never answered when I asked if I could put it on our registry, so I didn’t, but my roommate Rachel is FIERCELY WONDERFUL and understood how much I needed it. Rachel, I will think of you and Dan every time I drink tea, which I probably would have done anyway, since Dan knows much more about tea than I’ll ever know.
Yes; I realize that shark towel is probably intended for children, but Amazon doesn’t stop you from adding children’s items to your wedding registry, so really this isn’t my fault.
And just when I thought I could finish being overwhelmed, my mom revealed another surprise she’d brought:
This is a cupcake cake. That looks like a wedding cake. That says “Eat Me” on it. According to my mom, this is the first time that particular baker has ever iced the words “eat me” onto baked goods, because apparently all her other customers are idiots.
Luckily, a few people forgot to take their favors with them, which means I had a few extra at the end of the day. And I don’t think I have to tell you what I did with them. (They’re cupcakes. I ate them. My wedding dress is not going to fit me by September.)
I can’t get into how perfectly ridiculous Lindsay is for having put together these favors, because I will pass out. The box contains a Scarlet O’Hara raspberry red velvet cupcake from IcedGems, fastened with a personalized “love is brewing” British teabag. These are much nicer than the favors I will be giving out at my wedding, so go ahead and lower your expectations from here on out.
Thank you to everybody who braved the trip to my shower to make it fantastic, and especially to my mom, sister, and bridesmaids for proving what great judgement I exercised in choosing a bridal party. I’m going to take credit for everything you do, so go ahead and get used to that too. (But seriously, I love you all. Platonically. Except for a few of you who I want to make out with/have tried to make out with at Seacrets. You know who you are.)
The party ended when Joanna attempted to put her cat on a leash and walk him. It didn’t go well for the cat, but it went pretty well for us. Also worth mentioning: Her cat is named Gouda.