Friday, June 17, 2011

Martha made me do it

So. I'm seriously thinking about making the flowers for my wedding.  Yes, even though I just said in the previous post how I didn't want to make anything for my wedding.  But I'm thinking about it because I really have no idea what I actually need from a florist, and how much one will cost me. 

I google search paper wedding flowers, and the queen of all things homemade, Martha Stewart, is the first link in the queue.  I am terrified of Martha Stewart.  Even more terrified of her than I am of the knot.  But you cannot deny how lovely she makes things!  So I keep clicking through the slide show, and I see this great pink bridal bouquet that I want.  Martha claims that these bouquets are very easy and take an afternoon to make, but I am dubious that anything Martha claims is easy is actually easy for those of us non-Martha types.

But, I really like that bouquet....  So I click on the learn how to link, and she provides templates, instructions, and a list of materials.  And, while I may not have great craft, I at least have craft.  I built models all the time when in design school, so I feel as though those skills could transfer somewhat.  And I really like that bouquet.... 

So, I start to price materials out.  But I also have the distinct feeling that I really have no idea how big an undertaking this actually may be.  It's one thing to say I can make my bouquet.  But that bouquet has 30 flowers.  And each of those 30 flowers has 6 plus individually cut petals, and a handmade stamen.  And then, I've got to wrap the thing all pretty.  It's suddenly not so simple.  But that's what makes it a Martha!  That it looks so deceptively simple and elegant, when it's actually so ridiculously intricate that you end up super gluing your fingers to the wall.  Pure Martha! 

Instead of running away screaming, I become more and more intrigued.  But I don't want to buy a bunch of materials and then not end up doing this.  So if I am going to do this, I am not turning back.  However, I have feeling that one day Mike will come home from work, see me elbow deep in crepe paper with flower wire sticking out of my hair, and look to me for an explanation.  And the only thing I'll be able to say is: Martha made me do this.

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