Rural Runway: Tacky tattoos take over.
Big cats prowl at wedding.
Emilie Lindermann
Issue date: 10/20/05 Section: Features
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I'm clutching my Malibu-and-pineapple-juice and just standing there. It's kind of pathetic to be swirling ice cubes around with a cocktail straw before 8 p.m., but it's not entirely my fault. Here are all these people floating about the burgundy and hunter green hotel-esque reception hall, and I feel like a mouse listening in. I'm something in the woodwork just sipping and listening and gawking.
"Stevie!" the bride howls at my date, lumbering over in a cake dress. Sip, sip.
"Isn't this too fancy for me? Shouldn't I be wearing holey jeans and s---kickers?" She lifts up yards of sateen to flash a pair of flip-flops. The strapless gown reveals a tattoo of a tiger or kitten, well some kind of feline animal regardless, on her ox-strong shoulders.
Chuckle, chuckle. Uncomfortable sip of Malibu. "I'm Emilie," I say when this super-bride looks at me questioningly.
"Well, Steve!" Ms. Bride removes her paw from my hesitant shake and slugs him on the shoulder, a playful punishment for him not having introduced me.
And that's when it hits me.
This larger-than-life bride doesn't only part seas of people with her larger-than-life dress. She comes with an entourage of bridesmaids with equally feline tattoos. Better not step on her train, the redhead with the tiger tat will stomp on you with her cowboy boots. And they aren't the retro kind either; they're the real cowgirl deal.
"We're tough in periwinkle," the tats seem to say. Whether the wolf, doggie or Tigger tattoos be on the shoulder, upper arm or clavicle, they somehow manage to make an appearance. It's funny how none of these badass bridesmaids' tattoos allow themselves to be hidden beneath the periwinkle silk.
I've never had or wanted to have a tattoo. Not even a henna one. Maybe if I had a big fairy with a whimsical mushroom on my chest I'd have something to say to these people. Then again I don't think they are the fairy type. It would have to be a mean looking leopard. Rrraw!
"Stevie!" the bride howls at my date, lumbering over in a cake dress. Sip, sip.
"Isn't this too fancy for me? Shouldn't I be wearing holey jeans and s---kickers?" She lifts up yards of sateen to flash a pair of flip-flops. The strapless gown reveals a tattoo of a tiger or kitten, well some kind of feline animal regardless, on her ox-strong shoulders.
Chuckle, chuckle. Uncomfortable sip of Malibu. "I'm Emilie," I say when this super-bride looks at me questioningly.
"Well, Steve!" Ms. Bride removes her paw from my hesitant shake and slugs him on the shoulder, a playful punishment for him not having introduced me.
And that's when it hits me.
This larger-than-life bride doesn't only part seas of people with her larger-than-life dress. She comes with an entourage of bridesmaids with equally feline tattoos. Better not step on her train, the redhead with the tiger tat will stomp on you with her cowboy boots. And they aren't the retro kind either; they're the real cowgirl deal.
"We're tough in periwinkle," the tats seem to say. Whether the wolf, doggie or Tigger tattoos be on the shoulder, upper arm or clavicle, they somehow manage to make an appearance. It's funny how none of these badass bridesmaids' tattoos allow themselves to be hidden beneath the periwinkle silk.
I've never had or wanted to have a tattoo. Not even a henna one. Maybe if I had a big fairy with a whimsical mushroom on my chest I'd have something to say to these people. Then again I don't think they are the fairy type. It would have to be a mean looking leopard. Rrraw!