Sadly, we had to cut our vin d'honneur short by an hour because the rain that was at first a romantic mist had turned into a heavier rainfall. Knowing how fickle the weather is here in France, it wasn't even a question whether or not we would rent a heated tent for our backyard reception. Remember the toothless lady who yelled at me back in February? I'm relieved that we didn't reserve one of her tents that she couldn't even show us a model of. Aside from her unprofessional set-up and aggressive dog, she also didn't want to grant us a dance floor citing that the request was too extravagant. A dance floor at a wedding? How absurd! Several details fell through the cracks, and not all of our ideas were actualized, but having a solid dance floor - this was one request I wasn't going to back down from. With the amount of rain we had been receiving the weeks leading up to the wedding, it would have been a swampy mess under a tent without a proper floor.
As the guests were being led to the tent, I heard someone calling my name as I was hurrying myself and my mother to our seats. It was Grenobloise who wanted to know if she and her beau were also invited to the feast, because what have we learned over the past few months about French weddings? Not everyone is invited to all of the wedding events. We were at a wedding last week where guests arrived at midnight and no one thought it was at all strange. Well I did.
She of course was invited to the dinner, as well as the leftover/ hangover brunch we hosted the following day. They came all the way from Grenoble, and being an Italian girl this is how we show our appreciation - with food and wine! It just goes to show how confusing this system is. Surely this isn't the first time a guest asked a bride if they were invited to the dinner. Perhaps different invitations are sent out? Was that another detail we let slip?
With our sense of humor in mind, the decor was kept simple and playful. Balloons, confetti and quilted mason jars containing ivory candles were used as the centerpieces, and seating cards were fastened to sky blue rock candy sticks. With the assumption that the seating cards were provided to avoid an awkward game of musical chairs, our theory temporarily failed us when Kale Project Kristen was sat between a guest named P and a guest named Lancelot. This caused some confusion given that her husband's name is P and his nickname is Lancelot. But no, we really did have a guest named Lancelot who halfway through the evening ripped open his button down shirt to reveal a fishnet tank top. Get this party started, indeed.
Blue highlighted photos provided by my dear friend Stina.
So creative!
Our first dance was to Bertrand Burgulat's poppy "La rose du sang". We had tested slower songs in our living room with our bedroom mirror propped up against the couch, and both decided that we looked pretty dumb. Staying true to our tastes and personalities, we decided to do more of a boogie/fox-trot/running man number.
As the party went into the evening, several highlights included a round of applause as Gwannel Sandiego walked into the party an hour late with our friend Laurent (oh là là!), a chair-raising Hava Nagila facilitated by my Jewish girlfriends Belle and Stina (thank you ladies! I've been wanting to get up on the chair since Evan Gold's Bar Mitzfah circa '93!), a kick-line to Sinatra's "New York, New York" where an American flag somehow manifested, a launching of hot air balloons into the night, a cumbersome "Electric Slide" where all of the guests were bumping into each other and the French who were trying so hard to follow along, just gave up, a heartwarming speech presented by Aurélien's two best friends who provided visual aids of a young and nerdy 20 year old Aurel, and a speech provided by myself individually thanking every guest who attended. Unfortunately I got tired by the 15th guest and just looked at Kristen and screamed "Kale Project!" before turning to the French side of the room and adding, "Hey! She brought a vegetable to your country!"
Things got loud, everyone got a little inappropriate, jokes were made, drinks were spilled, a few of us fell, cupcakes were inhaled (I heard that one of our guests kept missing her mouth) and memories were made leading to weeks of recaps from guests who enjoyed themselves. We all got a little crazy, it wouldn't have been one of our parties if it didn't. I have a feeling that it will be a while before the French forget this wedding that definitely pushed the envelope, showing them how we do it up in the States.
