BustedThursday, August 25, 2011
|All images via Bluebellgray|
How beautiful and cheering are these fabrics and prints by Scottish textile design company Bluebellgray? Aren't they just amazing? I want it all.
I first came across Bluebellgray's designs thanks to Sophie, who created the gorgeous florals for designer Fiona's wedding. The entire wedding in all its glory can be found on photographer Lisa Devlin's blog right here and oh my word, it is just breathtaking - that dress! Those ribbons! The COLOURS! It's like her cushions came to life and got married. Which, with your average cushion, would have the potential to be seriously hideous, but believe me when I say it works. It makes my heart smile.
As did all your sweet, calming messages yesterday. After all the virtual drinks with you, and a couple of actual drinks with Lauren, I am feeling significantly more sane. So thank you. You're fab.
|Image by Lillian and Leonard|
Speaking of flowers, and weddings, and drinking, it so happens that Lauren was having lunch with a certain super-stylish engaged friend of mine yesterday. A friend who did not, before yesterday, know I had a blog. But, naturally, she asked Lauren how we knew each other. And there's only so long you can dodge that one without starting to sound like a weirdo (though Lauren really tried, bless her). So, long story short, I was totally busted. Hi, friend!
But what does this have to do with flowers and weddings and drinking? Oh yes. So, I don't really know about you, but I didn't put much thought into whether or not I should throw my bouquet. In fact, I didn't put any thought into it at all until about 11pm on the day of the wedding. As I swayed around the dancefloor, sweaty, dishevelled and clutching a kazoo, I was suddenly struck with the irresistible urge to take my very expensive and dearly beloved flowers and chuck them at some single ladies. It just made sense at the time. After all, I caught the bouquet at Fin's brother's wedding (although I confess there was some pre-toss collusion with my sister-in-law) and five months later we were engaged. IT DEFINITELY WORKS.
So I gathered my girls together, assembled them in a rough line, turned my back, held my breath and threw. Of course, I was facing the wrong way, so I didn't see the rammy that doubtless ensued (they were really very nice flowers) but eventually one friend emerged victorious, holding the bouquet aloft and no doubt already planning her imminent nuptials in her head. She just needed to find a groom, and she'd be sorted. Let's call her Friend A.
Skip forward a couple of hours. Lights are on, glasses being collected, taxis arriving. My mum is luring people back to her house with promises of wine and Lady Gaga, reluctant to let the night come to an end. I stop to chat to a different friend - let's call her Friend B - who is strangely fondling her jacket, which seems to be folded oddly into an awkward lump. With a sneaky glance around, she lifts a flap of fabric to reveal dusky pink petals and broken sprigs of foliage hiding beneath.
"Wait - is that my bouquet? I thought Friend A caught it?"
"No, I caught it. Me! That bitch ripped it from my hands! It's mine, I tell you! All mine!!!" (or something like that).
I couldn't believe that Friend A could have been so cruel. How could she deprive Friend B of her rightful place as catcher of the bouquet? It was shocking. Appalling. So I acted as a lookout while Friend B made her escape with her floral booty, and when I later saw Friend A wandering vainly among the tables, peering under them in search of her ill-gotten gains, I shook my head in disgust.
Lo and behold, a few months later, Friend B got engaged! The power of the bouquet is confirmed! Order has been restored to the universe!
Or so I thought. Until I was browsing through some facebook pictures of our wedding, and came across this:
Who's busted now, hmm? Shame on you, Friend B. Shame. On. You.
I've also just noticed that one of the girls standing smack in the middle, arms outstretched, was ALREADY MARRIED at this point. Clearly my friends have no morals whatsoever.
That super-stylish engaged friend who forced Lauren to out me as a (sort of not very) secret blogger yesterday? None other than the nefarious Friend B. I'll let you off this time Miss B, but only because I'm really, really excited about your wedding.
(At the time of going to press, Friend A is still single...)