The Legend of Victoria

Victoria comes to every market and show I have. She’ll wear anything, try out the latest styles and wait patiently at the table throughout some of our longest shows. Last week we had a pretty brutal outing and she didn’t say a word. She sits outside every Thursday in Kendall Square even if it’s 95 degrees out all while keeping that sly grin on her milky white face – Victoria is awesome.

Victoria is my eco –unfriendly Styrofoam head model that I bought for $3.00. One of her sisters did not make it far in the craft circuit succumbing to death in a tragic trunk accident early this season. I spotted one of her other siblings modeling hats in a giant antique store in Newburyport this weekend. Her job seems a little more stable not being bounced around so much but I’m quite sure she’s jealous of her worldly little sister.

Knot Allowed

People like weddings. I like weddings. Marriage, well that’s a different story (I kid, I kid.)

Back to weddings. What’s to like? Well, there’s the little things: like my “27 Dresses” obsession with wedding announcements, browsing stylemypretty.com, watching Father of the Bride or the Style Network, or getting that little ecstatic jolt of joy when someone you know gets engaged, oh I could go on and on.

However, you know what I found to be the best part of making it into the “bride to be” club? Being allowed to buy a wedding magazine. I’m serious. Now, of course anyone can technically buy a magazine. Well, not really. If you buy a wedding magazine before you have a ring you’re taking a big risk. Huge. If you get your paws on one and you have a long-term boyfriend, you’ve taken “dropping hints” to a new level. You risk looking crazy. Psycho! He might freak out and think you’re trying trap him forever and he’ll never be able to pry your matrimonial mitts off of him. Or, on the other hand, you could be accused of “ruining the surprise” when you should “just let things happen naturally.”

What if it’s early on in a relationship and you pick up one of these glossy bridal booklets? Even worse. You might have just ruined your chances of ever putting on a white dress and having this guy be the one waiting at the end of the aisle. There are a million different scenarios.

Anyway, the day you find yourself in the supermarket checkout with the credentials to pick up one of these matrimonial mags it’s a pretty awesome feeling.

So what’s the big secret once you finally get into “The Knot”? Well, it’s pretty much the same story over and over again. Destination weddings! Vows! Yay! Honeymoons! Bliss! Bridesmaids! Centerpieces! How to open presents at a shower while sitting down! Something blue! Weddings under 50k! Why you need a blender! Registry 101! What to do the night before your wedding! (Put cream on your face and don’t drink!!!! I repeat. Do not drink!) Whoops...

After, having a wedding and discussing with a few other former brides I thought of a few more subjects they should cover, including: What do you do when the wedding party has a penchant for whiskey? What if rains – no, not what if it rains, what if it pours so hard it almost knocks over the tent you’re supposed to get married under in a few hours? What to do if your whacked out Priest makes up some absurd story of how you got engaged in the woods and everyone believes it! Yay! How to handle guests who want two meals! Oh, and my favorite - Keeping your cool when someone cracks a Bud heavy in the church! Bliss!

Ticket Monster

Some basement nerd with a computer and a fed-ex envelope almost ruined my monster ball. Of course I didn’t realize it until 3 minutes before I got there.

While the rest of Boston were pressing their seersucker pants and packing up their sport wagons for a long weekend on the Cape I was gluing broken glass to a pair of $4 shades from Wet Seal. Forget fireworks, I had two days of a bad romance to focus on. After having tickets for two previously cancelled Lady Gaga shows I was determined to attend Boston’s Monster Ball. I planned my outfit and company accordingly – my sister was really the option if I didn’t want my off-the-wall antics judged too much. So she came over early and we got ready college dorm style - pregaming with a Gaga playlist. I drew a lightning bolt on her face and she teased the blonde bob I had picked up at Boston Costume.

While we waited for my husband to pull the car around I felt less like Gaga and more like Julia Roberts working a Sunset Boulevard corner as Vivian but I knew I was just a few minutes away from joining all the other little monsters. At some point during the 4 minute drive to the Boston Garden I took the tickets out of the envelope that I had ordered months ago with the combined $ from the previous 2 cancelled shows. I looked at them and screamed. Loge Section 12, Row 5, seat 12 and seat 19. Um…last I checked there were like 6 other seats between the two tickets I had in my hand that cost more than my weekly paycheck. W T F. So while I was in meltdown mode my engineering major of a husband told me that they were probably next to each other. Riiiiigggghhhttt. I was pretty sure I was going to be sitting alone in this get-up.

My reasonable sister convinced me to down a few drinks before we dealt with our seat fiasco. The pre-bar scene was hilarious – pink wigs, fake blood, platform shoes, police tape, bows made of human hair. I posed for a few pictures with fans (no, really), ran from the news cameras, and then we made our way down to the Loge. Just as I suspected our seats were not together. Our row was completely full - save for two mismatched gaping holes – I was seconds from crocodile tears. But, since I had my red bull wings I tried to reason (yes, in my wig and sunglasses) with the row to slide down. The first part of the row was fine – we plead our case and offered them free booze. Now, we were two seats apart with two broads between us. The bitch wouldn’t budge. The girl was a monster. She wasn’t buying our internet scam story and wouldn’t move her tush until she consulted her friend that was buying brewskis upstairs. Luckily, this girl was a softie. She looked deep into my handmade sunglasses, saw the pure terror in my eyes and swapped her seats. Phew...
Anyway, the concert was ridiculous. I prefer the review of the concert that was in the Worcester Telegram – the guy seemed like he had a good time. Also, check out her choked up Boston performance of Speechless complete with audience sing a long.