The Rentals Saga Begins… and Maybe Ends
by Love Love Letter
I’ve had a few experiences through wedding planning that have made me disappointed in the people around me. Early thoughts about the wedding threw me into a bit of an existential crisis. Crisis is a harsh word, maybe too much, it seems to evoke the idea of action. As though my worries caused me to upend my life in some way. There was no such drama, but internally – and on the comments sections of a blog or two that frequently doles out advice – I was a small mess. One of my friends was letting me down, and I saw this as my moment to end that relationship. After some mulling it over, some hemming and hawing, I chose to do nothing but whine to one of my girlfriends about it after making them pinky swear not to say a word. My parents were sometimes annoying – reading them at first as I tried to figure out what everyone was willing to do or give to make this happen was a game I had not yet played with them.
But now, the dust seems to have settled and I’m letting everyone be their truest selves and not taking it personally. Two of my ladies, though, M and M we’ll call them because that’s what their names begin with, have really stepped it up and are being sweet beyond sweet. When we went dress shopping, they insisted I always sit in the front seat of the car, that I not carry a thing. They took my picture and oohed and aahed. When we went to Bridal Garden, which is a self service dress salon, they hauled my heavy dresses, maybe 30 of them, into my dressing room, zipped and tugged and clipped me into one after another without a complaint and with a loving tear or two shed.
And just last week, one of the M’s took me a whole hour and half into the wild’s of Jersey to go thrifting and look for dishes. I have it in my head that one way we could save on catering is to find all of our own dishware and serveware second-hand. A quaint and charming mish-mash of chintzy florals and gilded edges and the occasional animal portrait or scene of daily life. We could keep what we want when it’s all over, and sell the rest.
Seems, though, we went to the wrong place. We can’t so much look for ‘antiques’ if we’re serious about this. I suspected as much, and we went home empty handed. I can’t tell you how touched I was, though, that M immediately offered to drive me when I was toying with the idea of doing this. That gesture, and the memories of spending the day together, poking through the bits and bobs of the Antiques Capital of New Jersey, long ambling walks down the road and long ambling talks up the turnpike – I’ll truly hold onto that for a long time.
Am I wasting my time trying to continue the search? Ebay or Craigslist sound better than more miles clocked? Does anyone know someone who did this successfully?