Rock N Roll Bride… ‘Head in the Clouds’ Edition

silver linings

from a year of upheaval

Words by Kate Forsyth

What do you get when you mix weddings with a global pandemic? A massive ball ache. So massive it makes you cry, yell, stare at the wall, shout NO YOU CALM DOWN at your partner, mother, the postman and your dog. So huge it makes you chuck in the towel, then retrieve said towel dozens of times a week.

It’s been exhausting, scary, weird AF. It’s created clowns out of usually-sane people. Suddenly we’re over the moon about seeing our oddball neighbour for a socially distanced chat. We’ve doomscrolled our quarantine days away, made highly questionable online purchases (glitter jelly sandals for everyone in your extended family!?), and faced one of the darkest times in our lives.

But the human condition is one that rallies, finds the rays of hope and keeps on keeping on. So with that in mind, here’s a bunch of silver linings from a really hard year, that I hope shall bring a wee smile to your face.

bride and groom cutting rainbow cake together

Love is not cancelled even though your wedding might’ve been

As hard as it’s been for couples who’ve had to postpone their weddings – often multiple times (and the poor vendors too, whose hearts are broken and their businesses on shaky ground) – you’ve found your person and have that sweet lover to hold onto, even if you can’t be married right away. To go through something of this magnitude together is a pretty special thing.

I’ve also heard LOTS of couples who’ve taken this big, mean old lemon they’ve been dealt (mixing metaphors is fine during a global pandemic, OK?) and made the proverbial lemonade. In the form of making an artform of consuming all that alcohol that they’d already purchased for their postponed weddings and feasting on the personalised cookies meant as favours.

bride and groom cheersing with cocktails

close up of various rainbow decorated cakes

Romances have started, babies have been born, friends have started a new degree, masters or their doctorate, people have gotten new and better jobs

Yes it’s been a monumentally shit time. We’ve lost loved ones, jobs, homes, security. There’s been so much to process that we’re all so fucking tired, sad, scared and repeat, repeat, repeat. There’s grief not only for the people we’ve lost but the things that we’ve lost (like weddings and special events, more than a year of our lives, the ability to do ‘normal’ things like hang out with friends, the lack of agency over our lives, the sudden insecurity we’ve felt, or being able to buy bras in person in an IRL shop).

But also, life has continued on. Love has blossomed for many, tonnes of cute ass corona babies have been born, friends have started new degrees, masters or doctorate, people have gotten new and better jobs, friends have left bad relationships and are thriving, and many new business ventures have begun during this turd-nado of a time.

Seeing hope and being hopeful creates even more hope. Somehow, life always prevails, which I’d like to apologise for saying because of its sappy meme overtones, but you’ll forgive me won’t you?

Slow down time = reassessing priorities

I don’t know about you, but the forced slow down and increased time at home with my family made me evaluate what’s important. Actually, scratch that, I do know about you and I think you’ve done the exact same thing!

Whether it’s been reevaluating your wedding priorities because #RonaPostpona, zeroing in on why you’re in a job you hate or work so much that you’ve burned out over and over. Or like me, perhaps you’ve made a rather big decision (our second child will have been born by the time you read this!) that you’ve been back and forth on for years but couldn’t commit to. I’d prioritised running our events business and felt like there was no way I could ‘fit’ a second child into our lives. Slowing down meant seeing that business was not the most important thing.

bride and groom sitting in colourful lounge setup

It’s no longer offensive to elope or have a small wedding

Back in 2019, when we were young, wild and [pandemic] free, many to most people would have been super cranky and/or outraged if you’d said; ‘Soz everyone, we’re having a tiny wedding of (insert government cap number)’. Or if you’d gone and eloped in epic fashion they’d have called you selfish, rude, tightarses, ingrates. You’d have made it onto many people’s shit lists for years to come.

But present day you will go down as having made the responsible decision, undertaking a true act of heroism. You’re now model citizens that shall be on the receiving end of socially distanced slash metaphorical pats on the back from your very understanding loved ones.

Tip: small doesn’t have to mean crap. You can pack so much punch into the things that are most important to you because you aren’t paying for dinner and drinks for 100 people. And you’ll likely still have leftover pounds from your previous wedding budget.

pink sofa with mustard and green lounge chairs draped with florals

We’ve stopped worrying about the small things so much

The ‘putting things in perspective’ dial has been turned up to ear splitting levels as we’ve gone through the past year. Like, why the heck did I waste my precious energy giving any fucks about what an internet person said on one of my posts/If my legs were too hairy to wear that skirt/Am I getting enough vitamin D/Does my boss hate me type stuff.

Same goes for wedding decisions; what seemed almost life and death now gets zero thought or energy. For example, choosing between terracotta or clay linen napkins, stressing about not wanting to invite your second cousin’s partner who you’ve never met, potentially causing a family rift, or which of the 256,580 veils on the internet to choose.

It doesn’t seem important now because it probably never really was. Both those linen choices are great, so it doesn’t matter which you choose. NOPE to your cousin’s partner, and stop your obsessive veil searching and go straight to the Rock ‘n’ Roll Bride x Crowning Glory veil collab, because you’re a rock ‘n’ roll bride goddamn it.

I know that for many people around the world, things are still pretty dire, but no matter what your situation, may you at least occasionally witness the wee rays of hope popping through a beautiful pastel rainbow, covered in eco-glitter. There may still be a dumpster fire below it, but we’re moving forward regardless.