Category Archives: favors

picture this

You guys. This morning I had a dream about the best wedding idea ever.

The sad part here is that I am now apparently dreaming about weddings. As if I have nothing better to do in my sleep.

Anyway. So I know that putting Polaroid cameras on the guests’ tables has been SO DONE before, but I’m still kind of enamored of the concept. The beau and I are also big fans of the wedding photobooth — yeah, another super original idea — but not at $1,000 a pop. Using Polaroid cameras would at least be a relatively inexpensive way to amuse our guests, while getting some fabulous shots we wouldn’t normally have gotten.

That’s what I dreamt about — making a book of Polaroid pictures from our wedding. In my head, I came up with this fantastic method for arranging the pictures on each page. I was gonna take a large sheet of nice paper, carefully cut Polaroid-sized holes in it, paste up some descriptive text next to each hole, carefully lay the paper on the bed of my scanner, put the Polaroids face-down on top of the window holes, then scan everything at a high resolution. And then do this again for the next page. And the next. Then, we were going to print all these pages out and cobble them into books that we would then mail to each of our guests.

Via www.furiousphotographersblog.com

I dreamt I was doing this. My dream self was. So. Excited. But my dream self apparently failed to realized that 1) It is 2010 and holy crap, words and pictures can be laid out digitally on computers, not to mention that 2) There is no way in hell could we possibly afford to make and mail 120 books to 120 people.

The more my now-awake, slightly-more-rational self thinks about it, the more I wonder if we should even bother with Polaroids at the wedding. To start with, isn’t it kind of rude to provide Polaroid cameras to guests and then expect them to hand over the pictures for us to keep? I mean, who am I to be the picture nazi? What would that even entail? Would we need to post little signs at each table directing the guests to deliver their Polaroids to a special basket on the main table, or something? Yikes.

Assuming that we could even collect the Polaroids in a way that wasn’t totally impolite, what can we really do with them once we have them? I’ve heard of people making picture books of their weddings and gifting them to their families and wedding party, but my family’s going to be way more interested in seeing the “professional” pictures versus some Polaroids snapped by our drunken friends. So that leaves us with a pile of photos that only we will enjoy. We could make a book, yes. One book for one couple to peruse, in the privacy of our own home. But don’t printers have a minimum quantity for things like this? God knows I’m not about to try to print and bind a book myself.

Eh. I’m willing to just let it go. Put the cameras out on the tables, let guests tuck the pictures in their pockets and purses to be found later; a hidden surprise. Know that I’ll probably never see the boozy, fuzzy, blurry, trigger-happy outcome. That’s the closest they’ll get to favors, anyway, since I’m pretty sure the beau and I are going to be too lazy to worry about favors.

Are you providing your guests with any form of “entertainment?”

questions that seek answers

There are a few things I want to know today:

1) Why is “sparkly” the adjective of choice to describe vampires lately? Have they all been slathered in Elmer’s glue and dropped into a vat of glitter, or have they simply been turned into a lightly carbonated beverage? Or both?*

2) What kind of alternative universe of morons do advertisers think we live in? Does Domino’s Pizza actually believe they will ever be able to convince me that they have a dedicated team of “chefs” who regularly battle it out for the privilege of creating another shitty processed pasta breadbowl mutation?

3) How long can I get away with drying my hands on the sleeve of a sweatshirt before I am forced to get up to put the load of towels in the dryer?

4) Why did I eat the whole burrito? I mean, it was generously bathed in mole sauce. I know that this explains a lot of it. But still: why? Did I eat the ENTIRE THING??

5) And then I had to follow it with a cupcake? Really?

6) Oh god. It was a very very good cupcake, and I DON’T REGRET IT IN A MILLION YEARS.

From The Knot's Wedding Shop

7) Should we have wedding favors? Or just forget about it? Part of me thinks it could be fun and the other part thinks it could be just another time- and money-sucking task. The beau suggested we could do something fun and cool that most people would appreciate, like a pint glass printed with a custom design. I agree that would be awesome. Because we’ve all encountered those completely useless favors, right? I recall at the very first wedding I went to after college, I was given a little corked jar containing sand and shells, with the wedding date inscribed on the outside in metallic ink. I think it rolled around the back of my car for several months before I guiltily threw it out. At another wedding, I took home a white chocolate bar of dubious quality, engraved with the bride and groom’s initials in gold. It sat in the pantry for several months before I guiltily threw it out. I don’t want to send my guests off packing miniature pangs of remorse. Plus, I don’t want them to have to carry something around all night, especially when we have to move from the reception site to a bar for the after party.** And I mean, they probably wouldn’t even notice if they left favor-less, right?***

Hmm. I think I might have gotten one answer out of that session, at least.

 

* I’m not drinking that.

** Whenever I read or hear the words “after party,” Eugene Hutz from Gogol Bordello begins chanting in my head, “Party party party party party party AFTER PARTY!”****

*** Not least because they will be drizzunk.

**** In super awesome perfect fantasy world, Gogol Bordello plays our wedding. Until 4:00am. And then the after party, too. I can can see it now: My grandmother careening wildly across the dancefloor with the beau’s conservative uncle, guests passed out across the dessert table. Can it be super awesome perfect fantasy world now? No? Darn.