Heyy,
So wedding planning has been put on hold for a while, considering Halloween, Christmas and all those wintery, autumnal activities. However with Christmas fast approaching I have word from Santa and his Elves that our Tweedle is coming home for the Holidays! After a brief phone-call a moment ago with Mrs Tweedle-Dumb, I am pleased to announce that she will be coming back to the UK with her husband for Christmas, flying in on the big day and staying until New Years. Plenty of time for catch-ups, chats, sleepovers and wedding stuff.
One of the things I really need to hammer down on and get arranged when Mrs Tweedle-Dumb is back will be the bridesmaid's dresses. Now it is all good and well-going shopping and trying on dresses, however, I know that I will never buy them from a shop and more likely to buy online, almost certainly shipping them in from China or Asia as far cheaper and generally of acceptable quality.
Now initially, back in the day, I was suspicious of the pricing and the quality of goods from Asian countries, however, whilst looking for a cheap bargain on dresses for other peoples weddings or events I was going to, I began to trust and even become pro in ordering stuff online from cheap websites such as AliExpress, Wish.com and eBay. Our culture tells us that things are priced at specific points for a reason and to question anything that is below or higher than this.
Sizing is a big deal and I can honestly say it has been the one bugbear I have with ordering from Asian countries. There is no fat size? Now it is common knowledge that Chinese sizings often run small but some sellers are getting better and along with the bog-standard small, medium, large and extra-large, very often they will now post measurements in centimetres or inches to check against so that you order something that fits you right. This being said however they also they jump from country to country for dress sizes so be sure you are looking at the right one as a US, Australian, EU and UK dress size are not the same. Scour the listing very carefully to check which they're using, although on the other hand, if they're a Chinese designer/manufacturer and are making things for you themselves rather than a wholesaler, they will sometimes do made-to-order custom stuff, something I will definitely be keeping an eye out for when purchasing the real deal.
Now, this is not to say everything I have ordered from the East has been a success with multiple failures, returns and refunds made along the way the last few years, nevertheless I find a lot of the time you are buying the same goods but directly from the wholesaler or manufacturer, effectively cutting out the middle man. This can mean you get the exact same product for less than you would pay in the high street or online retailers and whilst sometimes it means the product is better, sometimes it means the product is worse because of that annoying middleman would order a sample before deciding which items are worth investing in fully. You win some and you lose some but if you're happy with a gamble it could be worthwhile.
On the subject of returns and refunds, be prepared that trying to return broken/damaged items to China are difficult at the best of times and sellers will make every effort not to accept returns, even if their listing says it does. Truth is, the return postage costs more than the original item itself so if you are going down this route, be prepared to save yourself the effort and either buy something you know you definitely want or be ready to make a decision to write off the cost.
Getting your item in the first place can always be a bit of an ordeal too and you will not have to search long or hard in order to find horror stories of dresses, wedding, bridesmaid or otherwise as well as many, many other things that are ordered and never show up. Sometimes they can take the expected four-weeks to a month to turn up, but other times they take well over that to arrive. Then again, other times, they amaze you by turning up in a week. The reasons for such a difference in postal timings is entirely dependant on the seller and their choice of the postal carrier. When it's free postage, you can't really complain though and ticking the "gift" column on customs declaration card can help smooth things along the way of providing faster delivery. Sometimes they say "commercial sample" in which case you may or may not get hit by customs charges but to avoid customs charges on personal purchases, make sure you put multiple purchases through separately and ask for separate shipping as it will save you many moula's and is completely legal in the UK - as long as you're not a business.
And so as I placed my order through eBay (all £600.00+ of dresses) I excitedly listened to my phone ping with notifications of the orders being accepted and shipped. Initially, my thought process is to order several types of different dresses and styles to check out quality, shape, fit, sizing and colour. Then I will send them all back, get a refund and then purchase similar or even better with the middleman cut out the same dress via a China-based store/seller, thus saving in the long run.
Yes it is a faff and yes it is a hassle, however with Mrs Tweedle-Dumb back for only a couple of short weeks, I need to make sure that what I am ordering is something that both her and Miss Tweedle-Dee will both wear and be happy in come my wedding day. The problem is that there are so many variations and even with these ones I get the girls to try on there are so many things that could change or be different about the ones ordered from China. UK ordered dresses may fit better and vice-versa or measurements might be out slightly. Don't even get me started on colours either - Is red a dark red or bright red? Is Burgandy the same colour as Wine? Are two Wines the same colour tone? Is Blush and Pink identical? Is plum actually just a lilac or a deep cherry? And what the fuck is a dusty peach?
Calm. Stressing aside, as long as I follow all the simple guidelines I have used for years I will be fine. Remember ladies (and maybe gents too) if you are buying from far-flung destinations make sure the seller has at least 98% positive feedback, be patient and size correctly and you should be fine. She says until all twenty-odd dresses turn up either late, way too small or damaged from being thrown over the fence.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Tweedles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tweedles. Show all posts
Monday, 16 December 2019
Monday, 21 October 2019
Humdrum at Hinchingbrooke
Heyy,
Finally. The day has come where Mr. Warehouse and I finally get around to completing our Save The Dates, I mean, only eleven months, one week and five days to go! All that is holding them up now is me pulling my finger out and writing on all the names of recipients. Soon, I promise everyone - Soon!
Other than that what has been happening in life ... Well, this weekend was one I had been dreading, not going to lie. With the schpoopy season in full swing, I feel, as does the bezzie, Miss Tweedle-Dee, that we really have lucked out this year. October is nearly ended and we have not visited one pumpkin patch, only shopped in Home Sense once or twice and barely done anything Halloween-y. I suppose what with Miss Tweedle-Dee visiting Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and her Husband in Los Angeles and me popping off to Krakow with me Nanny Pumpkin most of October was gone before we had even started. Nevertheless, we threw ourselves into it this weekend, and, as with last year, I feel that we continued with the mini tradition we have here and visited a horror scare maze.
Mr Warehouse, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss JoHo (an old work colleague of Miss Tweddle-Dee and Miss TweedleDumb's) and I set off after the sun had gone down yesterday, en route to what is dubbed one of the scariest horror events in the UK - Hinchingbrooke House! Now I must say that I did hype it up last time we spoke in my blog post (The Horror at Hinchingbrooke House: The Beginning) but when the website is literally entitled "enterifyoudare.co.uk" and reputable (if you can even call them that nowadays) newspapers like The Sun calling it an "absolutely terrifying experience", I was in no doubt that it was most certainly the case. Waiting in the car park for the rest of the group to arrive, "The Horror at Hinchingbrooke House" loomed over us with all its terrifying trees and foreboding walls. You could hear the petrified screams of people and the roar of chainsaws. "This was not just a silly old Halloween maze for kids!" I thought to myself as we walked through the gates.
Near to Huntingdon and nestled in the Cambridgeshire countryside, an award-winning, interactive and realistic horror experience trapped, I mean, encapsulated audiences within the famous haunted grounds and house. However as we stepped through the first couple of rooms, immersed in some of the most famous characters from both mine and probably your most feared horror films and TV shows my overriding feeling wasn't fear or terror. It was disappointment.
Within the confines of the house we experienced the already forewarned dark rooms, forests, and mazes, however, the 13 sets and supposed around 80 actors were far from lurking in the darkness, and almost at times seemed non-existent. I do not recall walking through the attraction meet my maker with the likes of Jigsaw from the SAW franchise movies, nor did I have my nightmares come true with Freddy Krueger from the Nightmare on Elm Street films. I did however drown it all out with a visit from Jason Voorhees and walked through a very simplistic set up of Purge night. There was plenty of inspired twists the likes along the Texas Chainsaw Massacre and for me, whilst that is one of the most terrifying (because what happens if they are real, what happens if something went wrong, what happens if someone swapped it out with a real chainsaw?!) it was still a little too much which left me, at least, feeling as though they heavily relied on the noise and fear of chainsaws and not the attraction as a whole. I don't think I even saw the most popular of movie spooks this year, as Pennywise was nowhere to bee seen. My question was where is IT?
Now don't get me wrong, they did an OK job. Yes I hyped it that people touch you and reach out more than normal and I won't lie, I did scream and jump a few times, but certainly not as much as last years visit to The Howl - "5 huge Horror Mazes with live creatures at every twist & turn" based on a farm out towards Leighton Buzzard. Whilst "The Horror at Hinchingbrooke" was (still is) an extremely scary experience, being voted one of the scariest events in the UK, I really thought it would live up to more than an overuse of chainsaws and strange mazes where you knew hardly any of the characters. I suppose what also didn't help was the waiting around and the queuing as other groups in front of use kept getting held up or slowing down. In my last blog post I described it as "not for the faint-hearted" and that I shall "prepare my vocal cords for near explosion as I scream and (attempt to) run from the scaries and the baddies and the meanies" but sad to say that a combination of maybe knowing what was coming, the waiting around and maybe the camaraderie of the other groups, it just was a bit more of Humdrum at Hinchingbrooke. Maybe next year will be scarier as I will no longer be a Miss and instead be betrothed ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Finally. The day has come where Mr. Warehouse and I finally get around to completing our Save The Dates, I mean, only eleven months, one week and five days to go! All that is holding them up now is me pulling my finger out and writing on all the names of recipients. Soon, I promise everyone - Soon!
Other than that what has been happening in life ... Well, this weekend was one I had been dreading, not going to lie. With the schpoopy season in full swing, I feel, as does the bezzie, Miss Tweedle-Dee, that we really have lucked out this year. October is nearly ended and we have not visited one pumpkin patch, only shopped in Home Sense once or twice and barely done anything Halloween-y. I suppose what with Miss Tweedle-Dee visiting Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and her Husband in Los Angeles and me popping off to Krakow with me Nanny Pumpkin most of October was gone before we had even started. Nevertheless, we threw ourselves into it this weekend, and, as with last year, I feel that we continued with the mini tradition we have here and visited a horror scare maze.
Mr Warehouse, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss JoHo (an old work colleague of Miss Tweddle-Dee and Miss TweedleDumb's) and I set off after the sun had gone down yesterday, en route to what is dubbed one of the scariest horror events in the UK - Hinchingbrooke House! Now I must say that I did hype it up last time we spoke in my blog post (The Horror at Hinchingbrooke House: The Beginning) but when the website is literally entitled "enterifyoudare.co.uk" and reputable (if you can even call them that nowadays) newspapers like The Sun calling it an "absolutely terrifying experience", I was in no doubt that it was most certainly the case. Waiting in the car park for the rest of the group to arrive, "The Horror at Hinchingbrooke House" loomed over us with all its terrifying trees and foreboding walls. You could hear the petrified screams of people and the roar of chainsaws. "This was not just a silly old Halloween maze for kids!" I thought to myself as we walked through the gates.
Near to Huntingdon and nestled in the Cambridgeshire countryside, an award-winning, interactive and realistic horror experience trapped, I mean, encapsulated audiences within the famous haunted grounds and house. However as we stepped through the first couple of rooms, immersed in some of the most famous characters from both mine and probably your most feared horror films and TV shows my overriding feeling wasn't fear or terror. It was disappointment.
Within the confines of the house we experienced the already forewarned dark rooms, forests, and mazes, however, the 13 sets and supposed around 80 actors were far from lurking in the darkness, and almost at times seemed non-existent. I do not recall walking through the attraction meet my maker with the likes of Jigsaw from the SAW franchise movies, nor did I have my nightmares come true with Freddy Krueger from the Nightmare on Elm Street films. I did however drown it all out with a visit from Jason Voorhees and walked through a very simplistic set up of Purge night. There was plenty of inspired twists the likes along the Texas Chainsaw Massacre and for me, whilst that is one of the most terrifying (because what happens if they are real, what happens if something went wrong, what happens if someone swapped it out with a real chainsaw?!) it was still a little too much which left me, at least, feeling as though they heavily relied on the noise and fear of chainsaws and not the attraction as a whole. I don't think I even saw the most popular of movie spooks this year, as Pennywise was nowhere to bee seen. My question was where is IT?
Now don't get me wrong, they did an OK job. Yes I hyped it that people touch you and reach out more than normal and I won't lie, I did scream and jump a few times, but certainly not as much as last years visit to The Howl - "5 huge Horror Mazes with live creatures at every twist & turn" based on a farm out towards Leighton Buzzard. Whilst "The Horror at Hinchingbrooke" was (still is) an extremely scary experience, being voted one of the scariest events in the UK, I really thought it would live up to more than an overuse of chainsaws and strange mazes where you knew hardly any of the characters. I suppose what also didn't help was the waiting around and the queuing as other groups in front of use kept getting held up or slowing down. In my last blog post I described it as "not for the faint-hearted" and that I shall "prepare my vocal cords for near explosion as I scream and (attempt to) run from the scaries and the baddies and the meanies" but sad to say that a combination of maybe knowing what was coming, the waiting around and maybe the camaraderie of the other groups, it just was a bit more of Humdrum at Hinchingbrooke. Maybe next year will be scarier as I will no longer be a Miss and instead be betrothed ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 23 September 2019
Can you use the word "Dope" still at Twenty-Eight?
Heyy,
Finally a night in for myself! Mr Warehouse dropped off at the pub and with my semi-healthy chicken salad kebab on stand-by I settled in for the night, feeding the hounds and getting comfy on the couch. It had been so long that I could barely contain my excitement when Mr Warehouse had said he was going to the pub and asked me for a lift. Gladly I dropped him off and anticipated an early-ish night. Mr Warehouse had joined Mr CWG for a night of laughs and lads banter at his old local in the next village over. But now I was home, as the night sky turned darker I had back to back Teen Mom UK, Teen Mom OG and all-new American Horror Story to catch up on. I was very much enjoying my overdue night in front of the box, well that was until I realised that a house is bigger than the old flat and after watching American Horror Story I promptly went around and locked all doors and windows, just in case you know ...
Soon enough though I got a message. It was legible and spelt correctly so assumed that my future husband was totally fine and had not had too much sauce. However, as I pulled up outside the pub I was greeted by a rather sobered-up Mr CWG, however, Mr Warehouse, my darling sweet boy was absolutely sozzled. Bidding farewell and with promises of seeing each other within a few hours for my birthday party/get-together the following day, I proceeded to take Mr Warehouse home for a glass of water and a couple of paracetamol with a side order of bucket-by-the-bed.
Pulling away I was met with screams as my burly bae decided that we were going to hit every car that was coming in the opposite direction. This was not the case and as I poodled down the at speed limit of thirty miles an hour, I was told that I was going "far too fast" and to "slow the fuck down". Nearly wetting myself with laughter I must admit I was barely able to keep my eyes open and on the road for how funny this all was. That was until, baring in mind that it was past midnight, I was overtaken by a motorcycle.
"OOOH HARRY YOUR A WEEEZAAARD!" I heard Mr Warehouse exclaim in the actual worst Scottish accent I have ever heard. Unable to contain the laughter, it only egged him on as he carried on shouting and yelling that "yeeer a weeezaaard Harry! A weezard!"
Squealing round every bend, twist and turn along the country roads, we finally arrived home, although not before me as the glorified taxi driver was groped and had to tell my gorgeous man off for fiddling with the radio and insisting that he played Heart FM, probably one of the worst things to listen to in the dead of night. Heading indoors we were greeted by the puppies and Mr Warehouse made a dash for the fridge, berating me that I had serviced myself in terms of getting a kebab and yet he was practically starving and wasting away! Hardly.
Slamming a chicken burger into the microwave and heading to the toilet I thought that the special bucket (originally bought I think as we really tried with the whole adulting thing and planned to use it for washing up or cleaning however was now only reserved for really special nights out whereby someone has gone in a little too hard). Heading upstairs it was only a matter of moments before I was being preached too about the warnings of alcohol abuse and how Mr Warehouse "will never drink again", shortly followed by some long stints hanging out in our bathroom, blowing it from both ends the messy fuck. Least he had the special bowl with him for company as after asking if he was OK all alone in there I soon drifted off to sleep.
The following morning I was yet again awoken to Frankenstein's borderline nauseating whining and crying and bitching! Oh ma gaad! When will this dog learn I will come down, eventually. I just wanted a fucking lay-in! Attending to him at a stark 6am, only a matter of hours after I fell asleep, leaving my betrothed on the bog with his head in a bucket of his own vomit. The house was far from party-ready and I was seriously reconsidering a cancellation, maybe faking illness or something just so I could lounge about all day in my PJ's and eat cake and binge on American Horror Story, this time in the daylight so the monsters don't seem so real. Returning Frankenstein to his cage and heading back to bed myself I knew it wouldn't be long before his whimpers and cries awake me once more.
As morning broke, I greeted a very sore-headed bear downstairs and continued the war effort in order to get the place poppin' ready for some drinking and some partying. However, as 4pm rolled around, the start of the party, I realised by the number of cancellations that kept flooding through that there would only be a very select few that would actually turn up. I did, however, polish off nearly a whole bottle of Gin and shared a bottle (OK maybe shared was a strong word as it was barely half a glass) of prosecco with my Auntie, and many, many a Slimming World Syn in the sausage rolls and corn dogs - a feeble homage to my American bezzie Mrs Tweedle-Dumb who couldn't be here to share in this day a part of it!
The day itself went well and I enjoyed the company of all those bitches that could be arsed to turn up. I was spoilt too with pressies of wine and gin and Baileys Strawberries and Cream. From Miss Tweedle-Dee I received a stunning Morphe make-up Palette, along with a bottle of my fave perfume (Clean Rain if anyone is asking for Xmas!) and a super unique horror-film-inspired charm bracelet complete with Freddie, Jason and Chuckie encased in silver, and that was just to name a few. My lovely step-parents (Miss Tweedle-Dee's Mom and Dad) bought me a Pink Gin gift set, a Bathbomb advent calender and set of make-up brushes. Mr Warehouse spoilt me and showered me (literally) or maybe should I say bathed me in about ten different bath bombs, all from my fave store - LUSH, along with some HomeSense Schpoopy candles smelling like pumpkin shit and other fucking dope autumn smells (I'm twenty-eight can I use "dope" now?) and another stunning make-up palette, this time "Take me back to brazil" by BeautyBay. I was certainly spoilt and now am looking forward to counting down the last few days until I can finally say ... It's a year 'til my wedding day!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Finally a night in for myself! Mr Warehouse dropped off at the pub and with my semi-healthy chicken salad kebab on stand-by I settled in for the night, feeding the hounds and getting comfy on the couch. It had been so long that I could barely contain my excitement when Mr Warehouse had said he was going to the pub and asked me for a lift. Gladly I dropped him off and anticipated an early-ish night. Mr Warehouse had joined Mr CWG for a night of laughs and lads banter at his old local in the next village over. But now I was home, as the night sky turned darker I had back to back Teen Mom UK, Teen Mom OG and all-new American Horror Story to catch up on. I was very much enjoying my overdue night in front of the box, well that was until I realised that a house is bigger than the old flat and after watching American Horror Story I promptly went around and locked all doors and windows, just in case you know ...
Soon enough though I got a message. It was legible and spelt correctly so assumed that my future husband was totally fine and had not had too much sauce. However, as I pulled up outside the pub I was greeted by a rather sobered-up Mr CWG, however, Mr Warehouse, my darling sweet boy was absolutely sozzled. Bidding farewell and with promises of seeing each other within a few hours for my birthday party/get-together the following day, I proceeded to take Mr Warehouse home for a glass of water and a couple of paracetamol with a side order of bucket-by-the-bed.
Pulling away I was met with screams as my burly bae decided that we were going to hit every car that was coming in the opposite direction. This was not the case and as I poodled down the at speed limit of thirty miles an hour, I was told that I was going "far too fast" and to "slow the fuck down". Nearly wetting myself with laughter I must admit I was barely able to keep my eyes open and on the road for how funny this all was. That was until, baring in mind that it was past midnight, I was overtaken by a motorcycle.
"OOOH HARRY YOUR A WEEEZAAARD!" I heard Mr Warehouse exclaim in the actual worst Scottish accent I have ever heard. Unable to contain the laughter, it only egged him on as he carried on shouting and yelling that "yeeer a weeezaaard Harry! A weezard!"
Squealing round every bend, twist and turn along the country roads, we finally arrived home, although not before me as the glorified taxi driver was groped and had to tell my gorgeous man off for fiddling with the radio and insisting that he played Heart FM, probably one of the worst things to listen to in the dead of night. Heading indoors we were greeted by the puppies and Mr Warehouse made a dash for the fridge, berating me that I had serviced myself in terms of getting a kebab and yet he was practically starving and wasting away! Hardly.
Slamming a chicken burger into the microwave and heading to the toilet I thought that the special bucket (originally bought I think as we really tried with the whole adulting thing and planned to use it for washing up or cleaning however was now only reserved for really special nights out whereby someone has gone in a little too hard). Heading upstairs it was only a matter of moments before I was being preached too about the warnings of alcohol abuse and how Mr Warehouse "will never drink again", shortly followed by some long stints hanging out in our bathroom, blowing it from both ends the messy fuck. Least he had the special bowl with him for company as after asking if he was OK all alone in there I soon drifted off to sleep.
The following morning I was yet again awoken to Frankenstein's borderline nauseating whining and crying and bitching! Oh ma gaad! When will this dog learn I will come down, eventually. I just wanted a fucking lay-in! Attending to him at a stark 6am, only a matter of hours after I fell asleep, leaving my betrothed on the bog with his head in a bucket of his own vomit. The house was far from party-ready and I was seriously reconsidering a cancellation, maybe faking illness or something just so I could lounge about all day in my PJ's and eat cake and binge on American Horror Story, this time in the daylight so the monsters don't seem so real. Returning Frankenstein to his cage and heading back to bed myself I knew it wouldn't be long before his whimpers and cries awake me once more.
As morning broke, I greeted a very sore-headed bear downstairs and continued the war effort in order to get the place poppin' ready for some drinking and some partying. However, as 4pm rolled around, the start of the party, I realised by the number of cancellations that kept flooding through that there would only be a very select few that would actually turn up. I did, however, polish off nearly a whole bottle of Gin and shared a bottle (OK maybe shared was a strong word as it was barely half a glass) of prosecco with my Auntie, and many, many a Slimming World Syn in the sausage rolls and corn dogs - a feeble homage to my American bezzie Mrs Tweedle-Dumb who couldn't be here to share in this day a part of it!
The day itself went well and I enjoyed the company of all those bitches that could be arsed to turn up. I was spoilt too with pressies of wine and gin and Baileys Strawberries and Cream. From Miss Tweedle-Dee I received a stunning Morphe make-up Palette, along with a bottle of my fave perfume (Clean Rain if anyone is asking for Xmas!) and a super unique horror-film-inspired charm bracelet complete with Freddie, Jason and Chuckie encased in silver, and that was just to name a few. My lovely step-parents (Miss Tweedle-Dee's Mom and Dad) bought me a Pink Gin gift set, a Bathbomb advent calender and set of make-up brushes. Mr Warehouse spoilt me and showered me (literally) or maybe should I say bathed me in about ten different bath bombs, all from my fave store - LUSH, along with some HomeSense Schpoopy candles smelling like pumpkin shit and other fucking dope autumn smells (I'm twenty-eight can I use "dope" now?) and another stunning make-up palette, this time "Take me back to brazil" by BeautyBay. I was certainly spoilt and now am looking forward to counting down the last few days until I can finally say ... It's a year 'til my wedding day!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 25 February 2019
If you're not the one then why does my soul feel glad?
Hi!
Each of them I tried on and each of them I loved more than the last. I realised only after leaving the shop and flicking through the photos that my bridesmaids took of me wearing the gowns was that actually, I had already tried on two of them in a different store next door to the bridal boutique where I won the afternoon tea experience. Now I must say that at this point if I have already tried on the same dress twice then it must say a lot about it and how I feel wearing it. Although the full gather skirt on the Camellia Ball Gown gives the most incredible shape with the beaded lace appliques making for the ultimate princess gown, I had fallen for Tilly, a very similar glamorous take on a classic sweetheart wedding dress with yet more feminine tulle skirt which floated as I walked and once again, finished with irresistible appliqués in the Northampton branch of Wed2B. But whilst were just as beautiful as each other, and mostly fitted well considering my odd sizing, they were not the one dazzling my head when daydreaming. The dress in question was Letitia. The exclusive Platinum Edition waterfall ball gown was the ultimate princess wedding dress. With long creamy folds and layers detailing the skirt and the luxurious bodice, encrusted with beaded embroidery adding the perfect sparkle.
However despite Mrs Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee, the lady who was helping me, and her colleagues all telling me that I looked beautiful and stunning at the time in the shop, I just wasn't feeling it. With each curtain swish to reveal the outfit, I could tell everyone was growing impatient but with the biggest expense so far I was hesitant to say yes to the dress. I suppose just being in receipt of something so expensive I will only wear for a few hours is in itself a little daunting.
That is why this week I have decided to take up the task of not only trying to secure a caterer but also to have a look online for a wedding dress. My first go to was eBay as I figured that most of the styles I like would be there on the website both used and new. I was right! Hammering down some of my choices in the filters tabs I was looking for something that would resemble a combination of Tilly, Camellia and Letitia. As I have said before, I am not searching for the floods of tears, whoops and holla's that I would expect from a "Say yes to the dress" TV moment, but I do need a dress that is going to tell a story about me and how unique and funny and different I am. I need it to embrace my curves and show off my incredible parts and hide those that I don't like so much. I need something that says "That is so her". I need a dress that says me without me even wearing it. Continuing my search online, I have yet to find the one, but I am optimistic in finding it and maybe I will have a little rest until maybe some family are over in the summer and we can go again. In the meantime, however, I will record more episodes of Say Yes To The Dress UK.
Confetti & Lace for over three decades has provided a personal and professional service to all brides but the best bit is that the store opens their doors time and time again to the hit TLC television program following brides on a quest to find the perfect gown for their big day. With the help of David Emanuel, the designer of Princess Diana's iconic wedding dress, Gown designer Christine Dando and the attentive staff with all their knowledge and expertise the help to guidance to the show's brides (and their sometimes testing entourage too) gets intense on the journey to find the to the dress of their dreams! Uhh if that doesn't scream Saturday indoors with blankets and PJ's, I don't know what does!
So one week on from being the "The Goldilocks of Dress Shopping" and following the so-called biggest wedding show in the UK - The National Wedding Show, I just cannot stop thinking about that dress! Which one you may ask? Well, after stepping into the final store of the day and with my entourage of Mrs Tweedle-Dumb & Miss Tweedle-Dee for company lagging behind from lack of caffeine, sugar and sleep most likely, I picked out a few dresses that I was happy to try on and headed through to the dressing room.
Each of them I tried on and each of them I loved more than the last. I realised only after leaving the shop and flicking through the photos that my bridesmaids took of me wearing the gowns was that actually, I had already tried on two of them in a different store next door to the bridal boutique where I won the afternoon tea experience. Now I must say that at this point if I have already tried on the same dress twice then it must say a lot about it and how I feel wearing it. Although the full gather skirt on the Camellia Ball Gown gives the most incredible shape with the beaded lace appliques making for the ultimate princess gown, I had fallen for Tilly, a very similar glamorous take on a classic sweetheart wedding dress with yet more feminine tulle skirt which floated as I walked and once again, finished with irresistible appliqués in the Northampton branch of Wed2B. But whilst were just as beautiful as each other, and mostly fitted well considering my odd sizing, they were not the one dazzling my head when daydreaming. The dress in question was Letitia. The exclusive Platinum Edition waterfall ball gown was the ultimate princess wedding dress. With long creamy folds and layers detailing the skirt and the luxurious bodice, encrusted with beaded embroidery adding the perfect sparkle.
However despite Mrs Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee, the lady who was helping me, and her colleagues all telling me that I looked beautiful and stunning at the time in the shop, I just wasn't feeling it. With each curtain swish to reveal the outfit, I could tell everyone was growing impatient but with the biggest expense so far I was hesitant to say yes to the dress. I suppose just being in receipt of something so expensive I will only wear for a few hours is in itself a little daunting.
That is why this week I have decided to take up the task of not only trying to secure a caterer but also to have a look online for a wedding dress. My first go to was eBay as I figured that most of the styles I like would be there on the website both used and new. I was right! Hammering down some of my choices in the filters tabs I was looking for something that would resemble a combination of Tilly, Camellia and Letitia. As I have said before, I am not searching for the floods of tears, whoops and holla's that I would expect from a "Say yes to the dress" TV moment, but I do need a dress that is going to tell a story about me and how unique and funny and different I am. I need it to embrace my curves and show off my incredible parts and hide those that I don't like so much. I need something that says "That is so her". I need a dress that says me without me even wearing it. Continuing my search online, I have yet to find the one, but I am optimistic in finding it and maybe I will have a little rest until maybe some family are over in the summer and we can go again. In the meantime, however, I will record more episodes of Say Yes To The Dress UK.
Confetti & Lace for over three decades has provided a personal and professional service to all brides but the best bit is that the store opens their doors time and time again to the hit TLC television program following brides on a quest to find the perfect gown for their big day. With the help of David Emanuel, the designer of Princess Diana's iconic wedding dress, Gown designer Christine Dando and the attentive staff with all their knowledge and expertise the help to guidance to the show's brides (and their sometimes testing entourage too) gets intense on the journey to find the to the dress of their dreams! Uhh if that doesn't scream Saturday indoors with blankets and PJ's, I don't know what does!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 18 February 2019
The Goldilocks of Dress Shopping
Heyy!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Standing in line, I was surprised that the queue was not longer considering this was the biggest wedding show in the UK - The National Wedding Show. With everything a bride and her entourage could every dream of under the beautiful glass-domed roof of Olympia London I was in awe of the venue and looking forward to walking around sampling champagne whilst looking at all the different suppliers and vendors. Amazing wedding dresses, stunning catwalk shows, expert advice and all with free tickets in hand.
As we entered the lobby area, I was more than ready to elbow out my fellow brides in order to get special show offers, help and advice from over 250 wedding specialists. However on walking through into the Grand Hall and after about an hour or so of walking around as well as watching the first catwalk show I have to say that I was quite disappointed. On my long list of suppliers and vendors to hunt out in order to apply for competitions or sign up for freebies were quite a few that were not present at the London Olympia National Wedding Show. Krispy Kreme doughnut stand was missing and the authentic Italian ice cream man was also lost.
"Nevermind though I thought", walking back from a cigarette break outside "there are lots of stunning dresses at multiple stands that I am sure I can try on". I suppose part of me was correct - Yes there were lots of stands and yes there were lots of dresses however most if not all of the guns on offer to try on we're all a UK size 14 or under. And by this standard assuming that the rule still applies that for your bridal gown should be at least two if not three dress sizes bigger than what you normally are on the High Street or in normal clothes. This, in turn, would mean that I would have to be a UK size 8 or size 10 in order to try on any of the wedding dresses at what was advertised as the UK's biggest wedding show. Somehow I think not!
The more I think about this fact, both then and now, it infuriates me. People (unlike me on this occasion) pay good money and even take time off of work to travel far and wide to a wedding show where they claim to have the widest variety of suppliers including wedding dresses and bridal wear specialists and yet only choose to supply a few gowns in a few small sizes not catering for anyone else. Here in the UK, our average dress size for a woman is around about a size 16 which would roughly be equated to wearing a wedding dress or bridal gown in a size 20 to 22. Now, why is that not reflected?
"Nevermind though I thought", walking back from a cigarette break outside "there are lots of stunning dresses at multiple stands that I am sure I can try on". I suppose part of me was correct - Yes there were lots of stands and yes there were lots of dresses however most if not all of the guns on offer to try on we're all a UK size 14 or under. And by this standard assuming that the rule still applies that for your bridal gown should be at least two if not three dress sizes bigger than what you normally are on the High Street or in normal clothes. This, in turn, would mean that I would have to be a UK size 8 or size 10 in order to try on any of the wedding dresses at what was advertised as the UK's biggest wedding show. Somehow I think not!
The more I think about this fact, both then and now, it infuriates me. People (unlike me on this occasion) pay good money and even take time off of work to travel far and wide to a wedding show where they claim to have the widest variety of suppliers including wedding dresses and bridal wear specialists and yet only choose to supply a few gowns in a few small sizes not catering for anyone else. Here in the UK, our average dress size for a woman is around about a size 16 which would roughly be equated to wearing a wedding dress or bridal gown in a size 20 to 22. Now, why is that not reflected?
Nevertheless, Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee struggled on with me, sore feet and aching arms from all the books and leaflets we were carrying around. After an hour or two of walking around the same vendors flogging the same old stuff we were all bored and with not much more inspiration to suck from the place we decided to bounce. I would say in the experience of The National Wedding Show was mediocre at best and am pleased that I did not pay for tickets as if I had I think I would have been even more disappointed than I was. Looking back on some of the other wedding shows that I have been to both in my local area and a few miles out, I have always been able to get a lot more out of small local independent's rather than what is classed as the UK's biggest!
That being said however that this wedding show is perfect for those that have recently got engaged or haven't a clue where to start on their wedding planning journey, but a word of wisdom to my fellow Brides or Brides-to-be out there - Make sure that you do your research and if you are not prepared to pay megabucks then maybe consider a local wedding show or fair before heading to some of the National big boys as I can almost certainly guarantee that you will be able to find exactly what you are looking for by a friendly and local supplier ready and willing to take on your business. They will be just as capable as a supplier at one of the National wedding shows and yet will probably charge a lot less for something it just as special for your big day without a massive Price Tag and will probably care a little more too!
Calling it a day Mrs Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I decided to head over to the Westfield shopping centre in order to grab some dinner and a spot of shopping before heading home for a sleepover - Just like the good old days! The following morning I anticipated coffee and a light breakfast before heading out with my maid and matron of honour to try on wedding dresses! I was keen to get a few visits booked in especially when I have both of my besties on hand for gentle criticism and polite judgement.
The first Bridal Boutique we stepped into we were all offered a cup of coffee which was much needed as we had not had any of the light breakfast I had intended due to waking up late. Walking around the store cloaked in wedding dresses and feeling as though I was Mr Tumnus in Narnia, there was not much is anything at all in my size and so I grabbed a couple of dresses just to make it seem as though we have not come for a free coffee.
The next bridal shop Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and I left Miss Tweedle-Dee in the car for a nap as I was certain that she was suffering from a lack of caffeine and a poor night's sleep on my crumby sofa-bed. This store seemed much more positive as its ethos was to help the plus size lady find her dream dress. But just as the first so had been too small, the second store was way too big catering for up to a UK size 30! I did, however, fall for a few gowns there although there are no pictures as apparently, the designers get very funny about photos being taken something I personally think is a crock of shit.
Stepping into the final score of the day was my Goldilocks moment and with this in mind, I picked out 4 or 5 dresses that I was happy to try on and headed through to the dressing room. Each of them I tried on and each of them I loved more than the last. However despite Mrs Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee, the lady who was helping me, and her colleagues all telling me that I looked beautiful and stunning, I just wasn't feeling it. With each curtain swish to reveal the outfit, I could tell Miss Tweedle-Dee was growing impatient and that she wanted me to buy. The dress in question was Letitia. The exclusive Platinum Edition waterfall ball gown was the ultimate princess wedding dress. With long creamy folds and layers detailing the skirt and the luxurious bodice, encrusted with beaded embroidery adding the perfect sparkle I could see her point. But with the biggest expense so far I was hesitant to say yes to the dress. Mrs Tweedle-Dumb took one look at me however and said exactly what I was thinking, reading my mind like a novel.
"You are wondering if it is too early to say yes and that if there is something else better out there. I know that you are thinking about this and that it is something you are concerned about. Let me ask you one question though - If you were to be in the same position, standing here this time next year, I know you would not be as hesitant." Mrs Tweedle-Dumb said, softly but stern. And like that, it was an arrow to my heart. Having Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee there knowing that they knew me better than I even knew myself was somewhat scary yet comforting.
That being said however that this wedding show is perfect for those that have recently got engaged or haven't a clue where to start on their wedding planning journey, but a word of wisdom to my fellow Brides or Brides-to-be out there - Make sure that you do your research and if you are not prepared to pay megabucks then maybe consider a local wedding show or fair before heading to some of the National big boys as I can almost certainly guarantee that you will be able to find exactly what you are looking for by a friendly and local supplier ready and willing to take on your business. They will be just as capable as a supplier at one of the National wedding shows and yet will probably charge a lot less for something it just as special for your big day without a massive Price Tag and will probably care a little more too!
Calling it a day Mrs Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I decided to head over to the Westfield shopping centre in order to grab some dinner and a spot of shopping before heading home for a sleepover - Just like the good old days! The following morning I anticipated coffee and a light breakfast before heading out with my maid and matron of honour to try on wedding dresses! I was keen to get a few visits booked in especially when I have both of my besties on hand for gentle criticism and polite judgement.
The first Bridal Boutique we stepped into we were all offered a cup of coffee which was much needed as we had not had any of the light breakfast I had intended due to waking up late. Walking around the store cloaked in wedding dresses and feeling as though I was Mr Tumnus in Narnia, there was not much is anything at all in my size and so I grabbed a couple of dresses just to make it seem as though we have not come for a free coffee.
The next bridal shop Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and I left Miss Tweedle-Dee in the car for a nap as I was certain that she was suffering from a lack of caffeine and a poor night's sleep on my crumby sofa-bed. This store seemed much more positive as its ethos was to help the plus size lady find her dream dress. But just as the first so had been too small, the second store was way too big catering for up to a UK size 30! I did, however, fall for a few gowns there although there are no pictures as apparently, the designers get very funny about photos being taken something I personally think is a crock of shit.
Stepping into the final score of the day was my Goldilocks moment and with this in mind, I picked out 4 or 5 dresses that I was happy to try on and headed through to the dressing room. Each of them I tried on and each of them I loved more than the last. However despite Mrs Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee, the lady who was helping me, and her colleagues all telling me that I looked beautiful and stunning, I just wasn't feeling it. With each curtain swish to reveal the outfit, I could tell Miss Tweedle-Dee was growing impatient and that she wanted me to buy. The dress in question was Letitia. The exclusive Platinum Edition waterfall ball gown was the ultimate princess wedding dress. With long creamy folds and layers detailing the skirt and the luxurious bodice, encrusted with beaded embroidery adding the perfect sparkle I could see her point. But with the biggest expense so far I was hesitant to say yes to the dress. Mrs Tweedle-Dumb took one look at me however and said exactly what I was thinking, reading my mind like a novel.
"You are wondering if it is too early to say yes and that if there is something else better out there. I know that you are thinking about this and that it is something you are concerned about. Let me ask you one question though - If you were to be in the same position, standing here this time next year, I know you would not be as hesitant." Mrs Tweedle-Dumb said, softly but stern. And like that, it was an arrow to my heart. Having Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee there knowing that they knew me better than I even knew myself was somewhat scary yet comforting.
Having Mrs Tweedle-Dumb home the last couple of weeks has been incredible and having her and Miss Tweedle-Dee around more times than I think I could shake a stick at has been wonderful. But alas all good things must come to an end. By the end of this week Mrs Tweedle-Dumb will be back home in sunny L.A. It will certainly be different not to have her around but I am sure it will not be long until we are all reunited and yet in the meantime I am sure that Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will have plenty of fun - Wedding or not!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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