Sunday, 10 July 2011

The Veils of Time

Exciting news, I am going to be a Bridesmaid (well technically a Maid of Honour, but for the purposes of blogging the term Bridesmaid is funnier) at a wedding in San Francisco in the Fall. See what I did there, when in Rome and all that.

Anyway the last time I was a Bridesmaid I looked like this:


I'm the small grumpy one holding the hand of The Stepford Wife (sorry Janice, second cousin, thrice removed or however it works!) and no I don't believe we did arrive in the yellow van, although it would have worked perfectly with our outfits.

In my new role of Maid of Dishonour and International Bridal Stylist I have found myself discussing many sartorial matters with the Bride in electronic missives that fly back and forth across the pond and this week we have been mostly contemplating veils, headpieces and cats doing hilarious things on youtube and important academic webcasts; yes Murano, that's you.

It's a funny old world, because recently I thought I'd rather fallen out with Bridal Veils; I just couldn't see anything aesthetically pleasing in them, even K Middy's very romantic, Italian looking silk tulle left me a bit cold and thinking about the drippy hair TV exiting girl from 'The Ring'; and then, last weekend, this happened:




Kate Moss I fell 'Head over Heels' in love with you; I've not always understood the fuss about you, yes you're gorgeous and you look good in clothes, but you're a model so as far as I'm concerned that's sort of your job. However on your Wedding Day you looked so happy and radiant and relaxed and your wore Galliano and it was all shades of right. Sigh!

Meanwhile at the other end of the Wedding Spectrum this happened:



Sorry, wrong Charlene! OK, OK, it's a terribly obvious joke, but I couldn't pass it by.

This is what actually happened:


Here she is, Princess Charlene of Monaco; shame about the groom, but lovely headpiece and veil.


I'm wondering if this photo was deliberately set up to prove that she wasn't in fact wearing an electronic ankle tag that prevented her leaving the Principality. Hmmm......

And what will my Bride be wearing? Well you'll just have to wait and see.

Yours; soon to be languishing in a prison cell in Monaco,




Rockwife xx

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