…jeez, I love a good pun. Or a not-so good one really. As it’s the beginning of November, it got me thinking about Mo’vember. Well, not thinking in depth about it, more like a brief thought. Well, anyway, I am a massive fan of a good beard – “good job really” you might say if you’ve seen Chris. I actually haven’t seen him without a beard, and don’t really want to. Consider this a warning, Howarth. In Sheffield there’s tonnes of beards around though weirdly Chris nearly always manages to spend a portion of a night out talking about his hirsuteness to a group of awestruck 18 year olds. In fact, this weekend we came back to the flat about midnight on Saturday and encountered a group of lads who shouted ‘BEA-RD’ at him numerous times before the lift arrived to zoom us back to the 8th floor; though when we’ve been out in Liverpool we’re always struck by how few beards there are – is this the case, scousers? Are beards not a thing in Liverpool?
Can I use the word ‘beard’ anymore in this post? On that note, I’ll leave you with a few images of my fave beards ( just had to get that one in there….)plus some grooming stuff that the more hirsute amongst us may like. All images via my pinterest board: Beards
I think I mentioned in previous posts that I thought I’d hit a lull in wedding planning. I had that 6 week period when nobody knew about our engagement where I was planning intensely; basically I’d chosen most of the important wedding things without having announced the engagement. And now I’ve reached an impasse. And I think it’s because the only big thing left for me to decide on is, my dress. THE dress. See, that emphasis alone should suggest that it is slightly doom-ridden. And it’s not because I don’t like clothes, that I don’t like dresses; on the contrary – I love nothing more than getting dressed up but the thought of a bridal shop gives me the fear. What if I get stuck in the dress? What if none of them fit me? What if I just hate all of them? In all honesty, I suspect this fear comes from a pleasant ( note: italics) sales assistant when my mum was buying me my Holy Communion Dress at the age of 8 ( got to love the old Catholic upbringing) and this, lovely, ( italics again) lady called me ‘ a little Christmas pudding’. Way to boost the already low self esteem of a chubby, shy 8 year old. And I’d never really thought about it again until this year, but the thought of white taffeta must have brought it out in me. Like hives. At the moment, the only bridal shop that’s appealing to me is Fur Coat No Knickers but I’m not sure I can justify the trips to London for fittings. I am hoping, however, that Liverpool can pull it out of the bag; so when I head to St George’s Hall next month, Look Darling I’m coming to get you!
But you know, to ease the pressure on them, what about you? Have you had good experiences in bridal shops? If so, let me know and I’ll try and pluck up the courage!