Have you ever been invited to a wedding and only the bride and groom and five other people (a mere seven total) knew the details of the where?
That was the wedding I went to over Labor Day weekend and it was the most amazing wedding I have ever attended as a guest. During the rehearsal dinner, there was an announcement that all attendees had to report to the Boston Yacht Club (Marblehead) by 3:15 pm.
Sidebar: I would like to claim partial credit for keeping our gang of six (my mother-in-law, sister-in-law, four-year-old nephew, eighteen-month-old nephew, husband, and I) on time. The night prior, we planned backwards from the 3:15 call time, decided to leave our rental by 2:55, and out the front door by 2:50. After getting myself showered and ready in record time of 45 minutes, I panicked when I saw the nephews running around in their play clothes at 2:45. I employed my leadership skills and got the four year old in and out of the bathroom, dressed, and we opted to skip the hair gel. By that point, everyone else was ready to go. Miracles happen.
At 3:30 on the dot, the wedding guests were escorted out to a boat that took us to an island about a half hour off of the Marblehead coast. I think all of the guests were thrilled with the bar boat, although we restrained ourselves until after the ceremony. During the ride, we all speculated on how the bride and groom were going to arrive. By jet ski? By hovercraft? By parachute?
After all of the guests deboarded the boat and were seated, the bride and groom walked out and down the aisle hand in hand. (Classier than sky diving.) When the ceremony concluded, there were family photos and the imbibing then began on the booze cruise cocktail hour(s?). Naturally, my husband’s cousin – my soul cousin – and I were the first one’s back on the boat and with glasses of bubbly rose in hand.
The evening then progressed to a delicious meal, a covert cousin bottle of bourbon (a tradition started at my husband’s and my wedding), copious jubilant dancing, stumbling down to the nearest bar in Marblehead (barefoot, naturally), and engaging in hot pursuit for my husband’s lost blazer (and wallet, which we only recovered the next afternoon).
I originally wanted to wear my bright pink DVF silk faille strapless dress, but at the last minute I found that it would not zip up completely. I jumped on the internet, found a chambray dress that I was not particularly in love with but I knew it would be appropriate for the wedding, and had two sizes overnighted.
The dress, with the pearl slides that I have been wearing the eff out of this summer and some nice jewelry, ended up being a more appropriate outfit for the booze cruise and enthusiastic dancing in which I engaged. Not only did I receive so many compliments on the shoes, but my husband received compliments on them to pass along to me. I love that the dress came in tall and I could wear a standard bra without the straps being exposed. The irony of it all? The chambray dress and the pink strapless dress were the same size.
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