On Saturday we attended a wedding. The save the date card arrived about six months ago. We began to make plans. The invitation arrived about two months ago. We made more plans. The gift was arranged, the card bought, the do-we-bring-the-kids-or-not discussions were had. We were on top of things. All organised. I even baked this cake to bring (it’s a German thing*).
On Friday night at 9.15pm I started to think about what I would wear. I opened my wardrobe and took out every dress that might be a possibility. When I was finished there were eight dresses in a pile on my bed. One was bought in 1996. Its label reads “Crisis”. Apt, I though. Apt.
We don’t know any of the bride and groom’s other friends well, so there was no “What you are you wearing?” conversation with anyone in the run to to the big day. Weddings in Germany don’t seem to be as big an event as Irish weddings are, somehow. So even among my friends who knew I was going to a wedding, none asked what I am wearing. And so it happened that I forgot to even ask myself.
After ten minutes of staring at the pile of dresses, I left the room. Ignoring a problem is not one of my usual tactics, but stressing out over an outfit isn’t a good way to spend a Friday night either. Two white wine spritzers later I was back in the bedroom, trying on dresses and texting a friend and my sister, sending photos and asking their opinions. After ten minutes I had an outfit chosen – a Monsoon navy linen shift dress, a bolero cardigan, necklace, earrings, shoes and a matching handbag. The ‘Crisis’ got safely stashed away at the back of the wardrobe.
Sadly, after all of that, I don’t have a pretty flatlay or a nice posing photo to show off. The Bavarian is not much of a photo taker, unless you are a fish or woodland animal, and I always forget to ask him to take a photo. By the time I thought of it, I was eating dessert and the dancing was in full swing, so all I have is this grainy one.
*German weddings usually involve a cake buffet in the afternoon. The close friends and family of the bride and groom bring cakes for all the guests. It is a lovely tradition, plus you get to eat a ton of cake in that time frame where in Ireland you stand around trying not to drink too much before the meal.
I’m sharing this on the lovely Sam’s Tuesday linky The Truth About…