One of the perks of ghost-writing for my DJ's blog (other than her highly recommended entertainment, eventually) is sound wedding advice. Case in point: I recently completed a blog about how brides can guarantee guest comfort, and without it, I doubt I ever would have thought of providing flip-flops for all of the ladies. Or restroom amenity baskets. For each of these pieces, I interview my DJ and wedding planners, so this is solid, professional advice.
And yesterday, I interviewed a bride and groom for a profile I'll pen about their wedding and their musical selections (they outlawed the chicken dance, and I can't say I blame 'em), and from them, I gleaned a personal touch I want to, well, personalize.
They created picture frames for each table, and on each, they wrote memories. This prompted their guests to migrate from table to table when the opportunity arose to read the different memories.
So Steven and I have settled on a rustic theme, right? A la this:
(And don't think I'm too proud to go rooting around in the park near which I live to get twigs for this! Because the park can barter, too!)
Oh, and this, which is probably my favorite of the three:
So here's the related idea with which Steven and I are toying: For each table, we'll create cards (hopefully designed by my designer sister) titled "Rooted in Love," and on each, we thought we'd share some of the memories we've created together (like that time we went to Hocking Hills by ourselves and thought -- foolishly -- that bringing only horror movies would be enjoyable, but then, oh so surprisingly, it resulted in a nightmare so awful he woke ME up screaming, awesome). But I digress.
And now... the rustic touch we won't be incorporating. Not one person (not my mom, my sister or Steven) seems to find this appetizing, and seeing as we don't really want a cake, I'm not arguing the point. Sorry, tree treat.