letterpress

I'm screenprinting our invitations, but here's one of the paths not taken: I spent a lot of time looking at letterpress.

Letterpress is gorgeous. Go on, try to deny it.

(Bella Figura)

(White Aisle)

It's also expensive. (Go on, try to deny it.) I love paper, but I love other things more. Like shoes. And cake. Neither of which I could afford if I spent that kind of money on paper.

Then I found Mercurio Brothers.
For less than $500, you could have 100 invitations, RSVP cards, and matching addressed envelopes. That's the cheapest option, with 110-pound paper and a single color design for which you provide the digital files. Sure, you could hire a designer. Or you could download open-source design software (The Gimp or Inkscape), find a good font or two, and start typing.

That's not exactly cheap. I know, I know. Everything is relative. But maybe it's worth giving up a few pairs of shoes for good paper.

Invitations: let's start here!

It all started with $1/roll wrapping paper and envelope liners. I scanned a section of the paper, adjusted the contrast, and excised motifs using Photoshop to make this design:

Which I spent all day Saturday printing it over and over again on Paper Source Cream Luxe cardstock using a Gocco PG-11 and custom blended pewter ink. Riso does not sell a pewter ink, so I mixed gold and silver. I'm not sure I'd recommend mixing colors unless you must - I squeezed most of two tubes into a sandwich baggie and squeezed it in my fingers to mix it, then snipped a corner to pipe the ink onto the screen. There was a lot of wasted ink that way. I have about half the baggie sitting in my fridge right now, until I figure out another way to use it.

I love the perfectly imperfect way screenprinting works.
200 cards. All the same screen, over and over and over again.
I realize that people throw these away. I do, too. But I always appreciate a beautiful invitation (or letter, or card.) Probably I'm not the only one - but even if I am, I am having a great time.

stealing beauty

Last night I had dinner with Jules Someone. She gave me permission to steal traditions from faiths and cultures to which I do not belong. Excuse me, to which WE do not belong.

(By the way: I hate the engaged/married "WE." I also hate the selfish bride-y "I." Can't win, right?)

DJ and I are not Catholic or Jewish or Buddhist or Quaker or Wiccan or... anything. Marriage ceremonies are usually based in religious tradition, or imitations of religious ceremonies. Bummer for us heathens.

If we were Catholic, we might have a lazo. If we were Pagan Quaker, we might have a handfasting. If we were Buddhist, we might have a water ceremony. If we were Jewish, I would absolutely want a huppah. That's what all those garden arches aspire to be, you know. I like the symbolism - the home you create together, and the people in your life who will be the support of it. But I'm not Jewish, and it always seemed sort of disrespectful to me to mimic meaningful religious traditions in a non-religious way.

(source)

Jules disagreed, and gave me her Jewish permission to have a huppah. So I think I (WE!) will.

DJ and the Remix, Part 4

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

The thing is, DJ was right for me. I remember telling my best friend at the time (still my best friend - she has amazing fortitude) that I wished I'd met him when we were older, when I might have handled the whole thing better.

My mom wasn't doing well after she and my father divorced, and frankly neither was I. Together we were a mess. I ended up living with DJ's parents halfway through my last semester of high school. I still have no idea why they were so good to me, but I suppose that explains a few things about DJ too.

I graduated from high school. I took a year off before college, to get my finances and my head in order. That sort of worked, if you squint and look sideways. One weekend when I was visiting him at school, we had a hotel room in the student union hotel. What would you say, he said, If I asked you to marry me. I told him he would have to ask me. Actually, that is probably not what I said, but that's how I remember it. After midnight someone pulled the fire alarm and we were chased out into the crisp fall night. We bought slices of pizza, and I really thought I could do that. Spend the rest of my life walking in crisp fall air, eating pizza.

But that's not how it goes, you know. He bought a ring and really did ask me to marry him, under a gaslight called the Eternal Flame. Legend has it that if you kiss under the flame, you'll be linked as long as the flame is lit.

We didn't plan a wedding. I was still unsure about marriage in general, so I told everyone that we had lots of time. I still say that.

Eight months later, we broke up. I thought I was going to die. Both in that wonderful nineteen year old way where everything makes you think you're going to die, and in the more troubling way of knowing I'd truly lost something worth having.

I wasn't sure he meant it, the breakup. So I gave him two weeks to change his mind. I had in mind that if he did, I'd act like it never happened. (Great plan, right?) Fourteen days later, I asked if he'd changed his mind. He hadn't. So that night I went out with a fireman. That may have been unexpected.

a little light music

For light thoughts and rosy memories.

...or it might not be the place

So, between March and August, I felt so on top of things. We had a wedding date (10/24/09) with all the important contracts, and it was so far away I could plan ridiculous projects all I liked, and still have time left. (Foreshadowing: there was what seems to be a standard clause in the contract about how pricing is not firm until 90 days prior to an event. I asked, and was told that this was to accommodate inflation. Fine, right?)

In late August I sent an innocent e-mail asking about table sizes and layout. That's when I found out there was a new event manager, and oh-so-casually she mentioned that prices had been raised 40%. OUR prices had been raised 40% - but she'd meet us in the middle, for an increase of 20%.

That wasn't going to work. Aside from the unfairness of it, and the fact that our budget hadn't grown a 20% surplus - in their new price range, we would have chosen a different place. In the higher bracket, there were more options. But we still couldn't afford it.

So DJ went to bat, and it only took him two days to work it out. They will either give us our deposit back in full, or they'll honor our contract with a much smaller (more acceptable) increase.

The thing is, neither DJ nor I were/are sure anymore. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe I'm a champion grudge-holder. But we went back to our earlier options, and found several that we wouldn't mind revisiting.

(images from Prairie Crossing website)

When we first saw this one, we liked it. A lot. But at the time it seemed like it would be harder, what with decorating and hiring a caterer and renting linens and plates and all that wedding-y stuff. Plus, it wasn't particularly close to anyone or anything. Being a barn and all.

But it's a good blank canvas, and they're fairly permissive about what you can and cannot do to the place.

How great are those old chairs? There aren't enough of them for our party. But there are half enough of them, enough to stagger with those overpriced ladderback chiavari chairs for that mismatched look I like so much. So there's one option, but there are so many pros and cons.

DJ and the Remix, Part 3

Part 1
Part 2

Ben With Hair and I "went out" for six months exactly. He was an excellent first boyfriend, but I broke up with him anyway. A week after my junior prom I decided it was time to move on. Ben With Hair was headed to college in the fall, and although he was great I just didn't see this being a long-term thing. Sorry, Ben With Hair. He was an excellent boyfriend to the last, both understanding of my reasons and asking me to reconsider.

I was (am) kind of a jackass, so no. I would not. What I did do was call the football player from the library. He skipped a party to see me that night. I knew he liked me - at least, that's what he kept telling me. So at the end of our sort-of date, I leaned over and kissed him. Then I ran into my house as fast as I could, and ignored him for several weeks.

Meanwhile, he and the other guy had both developed crushes on the Mormon girl, who didn't seem to know what to do. She went on dates with one, then the other. I saw the football player with her on a date once, and I was surprised at how much it bothered me. The thing is, something about him seemed right for me, but I didn't know what to do about it.

By the end of the summer that love triangle had fallen apart, and all four of us were unattached. Just in time for the three of them to head off to college while I finished high school.

They all came home for Christmas, and I spent a lot of time with DJ. Still refusing to discuss that kiss six months earlier, still not looking for a distant boyfriend, but I just loved being with him. He left again for his second semester, which would have been the end of the story except that a snowstorm swept through the state, closing highways and icing locks. He turned his car around, and later that night he kissed me.

So then I had a long-distance boyfriend. I was seventeen, and my parents had just divorced, and neither of those things were going well. But DJ seemed exactly right for me, and all you need is love - right? Right?

this could be the place

Still looking for options, I found something different than either The Barn or Brasserie Jo. A golf club, far north and west of any highways, set in rolling wooded hills. A fairly typical place to host a reception, but it seemed worth a look.

(All images from the author's personal collection.)

Walking towards the front doors, I tugged on DJ's coat in excitement. Maybe this was what we wanted!

The event planner met us in the entryway, at the base of a curved wooded staircase. (I immediately imagined myself sweeping down those stairs in something with a swishy skirt.)


She led us into a large room, flanked by a wall of windows and a stone fireplace that stretched past the second floor to the rafters.Depending on the weather, she said, you may want to have your ceremony outdoors - or here, in the Living Room. We can set up chairs for you, indoors or out.


Well, that was it. Sold. I'd found my aisle. She went on to show us rooms for cocktails and dinner and dancing, and explained the menu, and as each thing checked out we were more excited. It was March 2008, and we had a plan. Sort of. That's the thing about planning ahead - there's a lot of time for things to go wrong.

nervous system

I'm not going to buy this, but someone should. Not to be pushy, but it's jewelry made to look like dendrites. Awesome. Oh, and no two are the same. Even more awesome.

city mouse, country mouse

So, once again at loose ends about where exactly the legal marriage would happen, DJ and I went back to our options. Did we want everyone to drive to Chicago? Maybe! Did we want to have both ceremony and reception at The Barn of Barrington? Maybe! Were there any other options? Maybe!

We went to see Brasserie Jo on Hubbard Street, a restaurant owned by the executive chef of Everest. It's in an interesting neighborhood - I counted three adult bookstores within a block, in an area where you can't park for less than $20. It's gorgeous on the inside, all velvet drapes and black and white subway tile and glass walls of wine racks. And it has a reputation for great food.

(Images from Brasserie Jo.)

The sample menu they offered looked fantastic, and it was in the right price range. The even manager even offered to host the ceremony in their "winter garden" - which was just a side room, but lovely, with velvet drapes, tall windows, and an enormous fresco.

The only problem was that the private room itself had a maximum capacity of 60. 60 people, with not an inch of space left. So, no dancing, no DJ or musicians. We weren't sure. It could be a very chic wedding, with fantastic food and wine. But we weren't sure that we were actually chic people, and besides - would we miss the dancing? And what about parking? Would we hire a valet? Could our guests afford the hotels nearby? We needed more options.

Back we went to The Barn. They could host the ceremony, they said. In the same room or a different room, it was up to us. It looked like that would be the easy option, but I wasn't sure. After all, we had time to burn.