Apparently there was a royal wedding in the middle of the night.
Meh......
Instead, I'm bringing you quite possibly the coolest, most innovative wedding invitation EVER made. And also one of the prettiest couples ever born.
Of course they're related to me, because I'm surrounded by brilliance and gorgeousness, if nothing else. tee hee
This wedding invitation belongs to my cousin Merek and his wife Brittney. They are SUPER artsy, both photographers and way cool. It doesn't hurt that Mereks mom (coolest Aunt I have) created Scrapbook.com and is herself rather brilliantly artsy.
So, here ya go, a truly "royal" couple:
Yep, it's a wee little book.
It came in a handmade envelope, hand stamped address upon it.
Artsy, brooding.
SUPER happy, I promise.
These wee bookmarks were also handstamped on the back with info.
Mmm hmm, that is in French.
Their first kiss was in France, at the Eiffle Tower, or something totally non-romantical like that.
Click on the pic. It's their story.
So cute!
What a cute pic.
Their reception was in this most magical and enchanted garden with the most flowers and twinkling lights I've ever seen.
I'm only slightly bitter that I couldn't find anymore pictures of it to show you.
And off they went, happily ever after, into the sunset.
If this tells you anything about these two....they went straight from their reception to a Mumford & Sons Concert (don't worry, I don't know who they are either). Their honeymoon is in a few weeks, to, where else....Europe.
Now THAT'S royal.
Speaking of, here's a shot of MY royal kiddlets before we went to the reception that night:
Why yes, those are tattoos.
What ISN'T royal about a few tatts on toddlers?
Maggie may or may not have danced the entire night away. She was so immersed in the dancing that my parents had to bring her home, because leaving with me would have caused her to die, JUST DIE!
9 comments:
Now that is an invitation!
I was thinking about you yesterday. Hope you're OK!
Amazing story, gorgeous pictures, and fabulous invitation! I love how some people just
ARE that remarkable!!
i can't let my mom read this because she'd want them to be her children instead of me. she is ALL about france and the eiffel tower. and i actually know who mumford and sons are....does that make me artsy and brooding?? *fingers crossed* i think that you family is just riddled with talent and uniqueness. i love it!
OH....and most important of all....HAPPY 500th POST!! i have quite a ways to go until hitting that magical number. which is sort of sad since i've been on blogger for about 3 years now. but ask me how many posts i've done this week.....yep. one. i might have my answer riiiiight there ;)
Shut. Up. How GORGEOUS are they?!?!?! Her hair, I'd kill for that hair!!! I love her dress, everything!!
Happy 500th post!
It twas a fun reception, wasn't it?
Congrats on 500 posts. Dang. That's a lot.
I was wondering where you went at the reception. I never got a chance to tell you. Maggie and I were cutting a rug on the dance floor and she was shaking her head all around and kept saying something to me. Then she took her hair down and continued to fling it all around and pause now and again to say something to me. But it was too loud and I couldn't hear her so I made her come close and she shouted into my ear with her hand all cupped around her mouth "I whip my hair back and forth I whip my hair back and forth." She fully pronounced the "and" each time. 'Twas priceless. :)
Allyson,
You are right! These are the cutest invitations ever- Thanks for sharing.
Very neat a creative invitations! My invitation was quite creative as well...it is actually a seek and find game. Can you find the duck that looks like it it is nesting in my rather large 80's hair, can you can find the beer can sitting there just to the left of my shoulder (looks like we were trying to hide it) can you see my big toe sticking up at the bottom corner of the picture. I can go on and on. Guess that is what you get when you ask your father who is not a professional photographer to take picturs. Congrats on the 500th post!
Post a Comment