Getting Ready

Getting dressed and ready for a wedding is a Big Deal. Men have no idea the amount of work, thought, stress, and preparation that goes into getting dressed for an important occasion. Of course, this is why, in my opinion, we women actually get dressed up for each other, rather than for our men.

Men don't notice the nuances of curls. They are oblivious to the pain we suffer for delicate stiletto heels, whereas another woman can subconsciously spot glamorous podiatry under three layers of floor-length gown.

Yes indeed, it takes a lot of time and effort to turn this . . . .
. . . . and this . . . .
. . . . into something presentable.

My sister Lynn generously treated Angie and I to a special makeover, complete with a makeup artist and a hair stylist.
I even got fake lashes for the first time ever! If it weren't for the fact that I'd most likely blind myself in the attempt, I'd wear fake lashes everywhere, especially my weekly McDonald's trip. It would do wonders for my self-esteem, I think, except for the aforementioned possible blindness, which would interfere with getting to McDonald's in the first place.
See the size of that curling iron? Just imagine; you could club and burn someone at the same time.
(My mind trots along mysterious paths.)

Lynn's little girls also got to take part in the makeover fun.
(Gushing in a smooshy fashion) Look at those ringlets! I love ringlets on little girls!

(I tried putting ringlets on Miss Boo but that was a minor disaster.)

And then, of course, the Bride had to get ready. She had all her pretties laid out and ready for action.
She had ten women in her room at one time, ready to jump at her every whim, fielding questions from obtuse groomsmen and ordering room service with which to force feed the Bride.

Yup, it was definitely an experience.
(And if you want to see the "After" photos, you'll have to wait for the next post.)

Because I'm evil that way.