I picked out our invitations!

Don’t you mean, “we”? You might ask. No. Shakes head. No.

I asked Joel the other day if he cared even a little bit what our invitations look like. His answer: No. So I went ahead and set an appointment to meet Irwin, my mother’s vendor.

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You know how catering halls have a list of preferred vendors — and deviating from said list costs you big bucks?

My mother’s list is like that. Except there’s no deviations. There’s her vendor and her vendor.

“I saw this beautiful letterpress invitation,” I might start. (Check out my pinterest page to see what I’m talking about.)

“Irwin can do letterpress,” she’ll counter.

“I went to Suburban Square today,” I might say. “I saw the prettiest invitations.”

“Oh, that reminds me! I have to call Irwin!”

So we went to see Irwin. Quite frankly, I was glad to be there at all. My mom still can’t resist the urge to do everything herself. (Don’t be mad, Mom. It’s true.)

She sent us a text message on Wednesday: “Dad and I are meeting with Irwin and the florist on Monday. It’s OK if you can’t make it.” OK. I may be exaggerating, but it was basically that. “Hate to trouble you with the details of your wedding. You can leave that all to me. I don’t mind!”

So I frantically called her back, told her to schedule for a time I *could* make, all the while hissing at Joel about how I wanted to fly solo. Did he care at all?

Thankfully, no.

Monday morning, my parents and I headed to Irwin’s studio. I always knew I would end up here. Sure, I dabbled with other vendors, but who was I kidding?

So I’m there with my parents, flipping through catalogs. The first was a who’s who of Lower Merion newlyweds. I recognized 98 percent of the names; we grew up together. Then we got down to business, going through book after book, honing in on what I wanted and what could be done — could we, for instance, print Hebrew on the back?

Turns out, no.

Five books later, after weighing the merits of embossed letters and natural fibers, I settled on a nice Z-formation with blue birds on it. (Look for a picture on Twitter @Shesgonebridal.) It’s 100 post-consumer material, which I like. And it’s love birds!

My dad said it was the only design I really perked up over. My mom said “Well, it’s not what I expected.” But she was good about it.

And it’s exactly what I wanted.

For a second though, I was wavering on the edge of a more traditional one — Joel is pretty traditional, and I thought it might be what he would want. And then Irwin spoke magic words: “I feel that I must tell you Aviva Schwartz has ordered the same invitations.”

Just like that, Aviva Schwartz — a girl from the community getting married in July — made it so easy.

“Maybe if it was a year apart,” my mom started. “Well, five years.”

There was no way. No way. So we picked the love birds, which are exactly what I wanted. Never thought my wedding invitations would be adorable, but I’m going with my gut. I know it’s what I want.

And when I showed Joel, he was delighted.


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