The Breck Girls

My bachelorette weekend was everything I imagined and more. I feel incredibly blessed to have such a great posse of women in my life. A huge thank you to all of you who made my last single-girl trip one for the memory books.

We might be older, but we’re still fun….


Heading up the mountain for the shortest hike ever.

Pre-dinner Breck Girls. It was waaaayyy to light out for us.

We even had a sponsor from Kentucky who put on my super panties. (No idea why this pic isn't bigger.)

Walking up the street for some danicing.

Getting ready to "throw my panties to the wind." It's a Mexican tradition that we've completely bastardized. Rumor has it the panties are supposed to be sexy, not super-sized.

Growing-Up. Sort of.

We are 16 days from the wedding. I know because my registry at Crate and Barrel tells me so. And yes, when I am bored, I look to see what people have bought and not bought.

My stress level is amazingly low right now. I think there is a pulse of adrenaline flowing through me like a steady drip of an IV, but I am used to that now. There is enough in my system to keep me from falling back asleep when I accidentally wake at 6am, but not so much my hands jitter from it. I try to take it as it comes.

Tomorrow, I jet-off to Colorado for my bachelorette weekend. My friend Krista has been incredible with spear-heading the event, planning it, emailing the 10 women to coordinate things plus letting us use her family’s condo in Keystone. It’s not exactly Vegas, but I’m not exactly 25. I picked Colorado over Vegas partly because I knew more of my friends could make it, but mostly because I like Colorado more than Vegas.

I know they have some craziness planned for Saturday night. We’ll be hitting the streets of Breckinridge, and I’m guessing, since it is off-season, we will be a sight. There are no drunken spring-breakers to compete with. I told them no veil, no penis necklaces and no list of men I have to kiss or get underwear from. When did I get so old?

On a trip to Boulder a few years ago, we went to my favorite used clothing store where I always score things like Prada shoes. On this particular trip, I found a navy, marabou bolero. And I had to have it. In some small place in my brain, I thought I would wear it out in LA. It was fabulous.

Little did I know how fabulous… later that night, after way too many car bombs (the drink, not the explosive), the bolero became a prop in a series of modeling shots. Let’s just say it took on a life of its’ own. So, in honor of that night, I decided that I am wearing this gem for my big night out on Saturday. I can’t decide if I should take it a little classier with a just a plain white tank, or a little cheesier (does it get more cheesy than a marabou bolero?) with a gold tube top, jeans and gold sandals. I am bringing both get-ups so they can choose.

My friends like costumes so I am thinking (naively) that I am beating them to the punch. Plus, I’ve NEVER worn the jacket except for our modeling shoot. It’s amazing how easily women can entertain themselves. So, if you happen to be in Breckinridge this weekend and see a woman with a marabou bolero on, stop and say hello.

Dewy vs. Shine

A bride should glow. She should look dewy and fresh like spring time. Or so the make-up artist at Barney’s decided. He said I should have a little shimmer on my upper cheeks so that when I turned just so, the light would catch and I’d look like I was glowing. He charges $300 for wedding day make-up so clearly, he should know how to look on a wedding day. The woman my mom has lined up for me in North Carolina charges $45. I mean, it’s North Carolina and not Los Angeles, but I decided I didn’t trust an NC make-up artist especially if she’s so cheap. Did anyone hear that bullet go into my foot?

Hair, I will pay for. I will live if it looks a little funny because honestly, I can’t do my hair to save my life unless we are talking a pony tail. But make-up? Make-up is like art. I’ve even been complemented on my make-up.

So, when we were at Barney’s last weekend, I decided to handle the make-up issue. I headed over to the Sue Devitt counter, who makes really nice make-up, and let Daniel take over my face. He took a whopping hour and a half to put on my wedding day face (including starting, removing everything and starting again). I looked, if I may say so, radiant. He did my eyes in this glimmering gold, but not Goldfinger gold. Just elegant with a chocolate brown liner and lush, thick black lashes. My lips were painted a bright, YSL red (their color was better – loved that he wasn’t limited by his own brand). My cheeks glowed and shimmered.

I happily purchased the items that weren’t in my make-up arsenal ($195 later the $45 NC make-up artist was sounding okay) and headed home.

I decided my mom needed to see how great the make-up looked so I insisted my fiancé take some pictures of me to email her. In the pictures, my face didn’t look glowing or dewy. I looked like a big, greasy, shiny mess. The flash bounced off my cheek, illuminating it in a bad, non-glowing way.

On the bright side, I stopped to get some tacos for lunch while made up like a bride. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any cash, so I couldn’t get anything. I was getting ready to walk away when the counter guy forced chips and salsa on me for free, insisting that I should have something. It may look shiny, but I looked good enough to get free food. If only it photographs as well.

Lipstick would help deflect from the "dew."

The Earrings

After much searching (mostly online), I found these gorgeous earrings by Dana Kellin at my friend Jessica's shop Chelsea in Boulder. If you're ever there, you should stop in.

I think they are so elegant and pretty and special... and I couldn't be happier that things are finally falling into place!

Now, I only need to find the ring....

The Elusive Shoes

It’s beginning to fall into place. This week, I’ve checked off: shoes, make-up and jewelry (posts to follow).

The shoes eluded me. I’ve looked for shoes in Barney’s, Nordstrom’s (Los Angeles, Austin), small boutiques (Los Angeles, Austin, Boulder), in magazines and on-line where, I thought I found some. They arrived yesterday, and were lovely. Gorgeous. And a size too big. I went into a panic when I couldn’t get on to their website to see if they had a smaller size available. So, last night, in an obsessive fit, I went to DSW, which was fruitless, and Nordstrom Rack, where I found…. TA-DA! My wedding shoes!! Yes, in amongst the piles of crap shoes with missing straps, scuffs and general ugliness, I found the perfect shoes for our wedding location. Low, wedge-heel silver sandals. I never would have looked twice at them in Nordstrom, but at the Rack, I had an open, desperate mind.

They kind of exude Miami grandma, but I swear, they are cute in person. Or at least cute enough. Last night, I thought they were even a little sexy.

I also found of pair of completely cheesy, bride-like flip-flops with pearls on them. Oh, I’m a bride!! I’m a bride!!

Mama Love

Yesterday, I asked my mom if she could think of anything else I needed to get in LA for the wedding since I only have two more weekends here to run errands. She goes, “Like what?” Like paper lanterns people hang in trees or ribbons for center pieces. We have Chinatown and Little India. Did I mention Little Tokyo or the fabric district?

“What for?” she asked. It was then I remembered who I was talking to. My mother, wonderful, loving, caring, funny mom, is not the party giver in my family. She always made the house look pretty for my birthdays. She used to layer three different colored square cloths (emerald green, fuchsia and golden rod) from Japan on our long wooden table. She put bright yellow branches of forsythia in a big vase. It was more natural, and I loved it. She is not into the minute details of weddings or large events even though she has an amazing eye.

For my brother’s wedding, she kind of freaked out. Actually, she completely freaked out. She sprouted horns and a crazy look in her eyes. They kind of glowed with hysteria. At the time, I was working as an event planner in Colorado. I threw weddings as a career.

My brother’s wedding was in the middle of a July afternoon on top of one of the Smoky Mountains. It was decided we should have water for the guests during the ceremony so I suggested we get small water bottles, fill a tub with ice and let people grab them. To which, my mother replied, “Sarah, I don’t want to hear another word out of you.”

Um, okay. Sorry for the completely ridicules, off-the-wall suggestion. Next time I’ll suggest digging a well and making people lower a bucket and haul their own water.

Needless to say, I approached the planning of our wedding with my mom with some trepidation. As the months passed, mom proved the horns a creation from her past boyfriend (luckily out of the picture). She realized that I like spreadsheets. That I make lists of questions. That I am slightly insane when it come to planning. Let’s be honest. I don’t make the big bucks as an executive assistant without some planning. With my brother’s wedding, she felt like she did everything. This time, she feels like she isn’t doing anything, which isn’t true. She follows up on the emails I send her (email! My mom! Checking it regularly!), she calls the people I ask her to immediately.

People look at me like I am crazy when I say that my mom is doing a lot to help me. Like, hello! Moms live for this shit. Most moms might, but not mine. Mine prefers a quiet afternoon canoeing on the lake, floating on our backs in a cove. She prefers a yoga class followed by a night of contra dancing. She prefers going to the movies with me and eating a dinner of popcorn and Junior Mints. But she’s happy to help because I am happy.

Now, if we can just find her some sassy shoes for dancing. She’s not looking for Manolo’s or Jimmy Choo’s. She’s looking for good shoes that will turn and flex and support her feet while looking pretty. She said she’s not wearing her black contra dance shoes with her pink dress, but I said I didn’t care if they made her happy.

Health Watch 7.10.07

I think I’ve eaten half my office, which I keep well-stocked, and have no desire to stop. As usual, I started out great: Greek yogurt with fresh peaches and blueberries and a drizzle of local honey. So delicious! Followed by half a bag of goldfish crackers that for some inane reason I occasionally crave. I THOUGHT I was going to have a nice homemade salad for lunch, but then my boss offered to buy me a gourmet sandwich from this delicious deli so of course I ate that instead. But only half. Of an enormous beast. And I skipped the chips, but they are still taunting me. Then, I needed a little chocolate to wash the sandwich down so I had a mini KitKat bar. I was hungry again fifteen minutes ago so I ate a box of animal crackers. I am seeing a pattern here: “kid” food a.k.a. comfort food.

Now, I’m eyeing the goldfish again and I still have to eat dinner. At least I made it to yoga this morning. Did I mention the wedding is a month away? Most women stop eating and work out five times a day. Me? Please. I stopped working out and started eating crap. Why be the same as everyone else?

Anyone know why we crave crap when we’re bleeding?

UPDATE: I finished the other half of the sandwich for dinner. All in all, not TOO awful.