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A Bride-to-Be's Pre-Wedding Resolutions

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Every year, with the Mummers strutting their stuff in the background, I put pen to paper (no fancy iPhone apps for me) with every intention of honoring my New Year’s resolutions. It’s hardly a difficult task. I simply refer to last year’s list and copy away.

But 2012 is different—really. By this time next year, I’ll be a “Mrs.” Come 12 a.m. on New Year’s Day, it’ll be just 46 weeks, 220 days and 15 hours until my wedding. My Prince Charming took his good old time, but I’m thrilled that I’ve found the person I’ll spend the rest of my life with. I’m also old enough to know that it’s not all one big fairy tale. Life, as I know it, is going to change in a big way. So sticking to my resolutions should be the easiest part—right? Anyway, here they are:

Exercise more. Fifteen years later, it’s about time I got rid of my Freshman 15. My wedding gown is the ultimate incentive to hop on the nearest treadmill. And if we’re paying $5,000 or more for photos, do I really want to be reminded for the rest of my days that I failed to stick to my less-carbs-more-cardio regimen?

Save, don’t spend. Full disclosure: I’m queen of the impulse purchase. It seems I can’t quite grasp the difference between “need” and “want.” And, usually, buyer’s remorse kicks in well after it’s too late for a return.
 

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This year, however, I’ll make Suze Orman proud. I plan to stick to my “debt diet” as conscientiously as I adhere to my food diet. Getting married is expensive—ridiculously expensive. And no matter how many articles I read about saving money on your wedding day, none of it translates to my world—or that of anyone else I know, for that matter.

So, no, I won’t be replacing a DJ with an iPod at my reception. I’ll avoid perusing online shopping sites, and try to forget about KOP and Suburban Square. Oh, the satisfaction I’ll feel when I pay the caterer with the money I’ve saved—knowing, of course, that I’ll be back in my element once I’m in my new home. 

Stress less. I wonder if I’m setting myself up for failure with this one. After all, I am planning the biggest event of my life. The mere thought of invitations, seating arrangements and the possibility of a freak snowstorm in November gets my heart racing. And though I can’t guarantee that I’ll be unrolling my yoga mat for relief on every occasion, I will commit to taking a deep breath before losing my mind over minor planning dilemmas.

I can’t predict how successful I’ll be at sticking to any of this stuff, but I do know that this year will be unlike any other. And, with certainty, I firmly resolve to enjoy every moment of it.

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