The Bells, The Bells

Can't sleep.

Today's random topic: Marriage.

Many of the more typical members of society are shocked when they discover that, surprise surprise, I would like to get married at some point. As they process the idea, I can see them contemplating my appearance on the big day. (You know, the one that will never actually come, leaving me alone with my cats and gin). They imagine my princess dress, and it invariably goes something like this:

What bastards.

Of course, those who know me a little better, but who still think of me as a bit of a novelty, will usually picture this:

Yes, yes. I know. A predictable mistake to make. She looks like the taller sister of Morticia, so she'll be going for that classic wrist-slitting, watch-out-Dorothy-a-house-is-about-to-drop-on-my-head look. Awesome.

Others who know me for the hopeless romantic that I am will be confounded by my rock-chick ways, and will reckon I will try this one on for size:


All right, all right. What teenage rocker hasn't at least thought about it? The point is, we saw the folly and changed our minds.

There are those who know my partying ways, and most likely live in fear that someday, in a drug-addled stupour, I will pay homage to Britney and end up in a spontaneous ceremony which seemed like a good idea at the time. Only I will be wearing something like this

Again, understandable. But that is what friends are there to prevent. Let's ignore the fact that they have sometimes already passed out in my capable hands.

You, dear reader, will be imagining me in something like this:

And frankly, the only possible benefit I can imagine is the prospect of having one of the legal page-boys tucked under the skirt during the ceremony.

Some people on the "scene" will be disappointed I am not wearing this garment:

and even sadder to learn that it will not be incorporated into some pretentious "fetish wedding". What a shame. Who wouldn't want to stand there with one's head up one's butt? (Actually, I suppose some can be quite nice. Let us not all be tarnished by a few lame-arse individuals.) And the dress 'aint bad. Just not for my wedding.

Now this is a dress:

For me, it remains beautiful and elegant, whilst at the same time making a subtle statement of as to what might transpire on the honeymoon.

Nevertheless, perhaps I want something (shock horror) a little more conventional...

But, let's face it, the chances are... well the chances are I 'aint getting hitched. But other than that small glitch, the chances are that my groom will not be so conventional. And I am the kind of lady that dresses to please (because I am a crap, oh so crap, so ashamed, feminist.) I want to see a look of adoration on his face, and tears welling in his eyes. So I better wear something fucking fabulous. How about this?

Alright. It may or may not be the dress worn by Mina Murray in Bram Stoker's Dracula. Do you remember the scene where she goes to dinner with him, the hussy... Well the hot vampiric romance almost caused me to fall off my chair. And I have always loved the frock. And it is not white, thus appealing to the unconventional sensibilities of my future groom. Note also the bustle. These suit me because of my generous bottom, and little waist. A winner all round.

OK...

So I still can't shake that whole white-wedding "I have been dreaming of this for my whole conditioned childhood and adult life" thing. But it has bustle. Bustle bustle bustle. I am the kind of girl that when I ask "Does my bum look big in this?" you better make damned sure you say "Yes."

Oh, no, my train will be way-hay-haaaaaay longer on the big day. I have already given up the dream of a skirt so big, they have to knock down a wall of the building just to get me inside. I'll be damned if I'll give up this. Ideally, the guests would smell the Opium perfume 5 minutes before I even arrive, and still be looking at the hem 5 minutes after I have left. And unlike this poor unfortunate, I wouldn't misplace my flowers.

I have laboured over this one for a while...

and I still just don't know.

I actually really like this one, and I am not a sleeves woman. But I do love vintage, and this is a gorgeous example. I will be a tall, elegant flower of virtue.


But you guys so know that really, I'll turn up looking like Mina Murray.