It's Me, Sara Louise

{a fairy tale christening}

I have failed you my friends. La Petite was christened and I was without a camera to capture all of The LPV goodness (and trust me, there was loads) so I will do my utmost to describe it as best as I can.

By the way, me not having my camera can be blamed on wardrobe malfunctions… first Gregory’s and then mine; Gregory slipped his foot into his suede loafer and the stitching split like he was the Incredible Hulk or something. Monumental huffing and puffing ensued as I desperately attempted to safety pin it together without the pin showing. And all the while I was doing that, (with an Incredible Hulk huffing puffing monster freaking out about his shoe) I was frantically trying to find a bra that worked under my dress (the dress was a brilliant blue color, lined on the bottom, but ever so slightly sheer on top. I have know idea why I didn’t suss that out before the morning of the Christening, but I didn’t).

So there I was, changing in and out of my dress over and over again, switching bras, and in between each change, running over to Gregory, trying to pin his shoe together. Add 30°C (90°F) and no AC and you get the drift. It was the opposite of calm.

And now you know why I forgot my camera, but be happy in the knowledge that I eventually found an appropriate undergarment and was victorious over the safety pin and the shoe so Gregory did not go to the church looking like a hobo.

But here’s the irony of the situation… even if I was wearing a bra that wasn’t quite right, and Gregory looked like a hobo due to a split seam in his suede loafer, we still would have been the most appropriately dressed pair there (besides Papa and Papa’s Wife, they both looked lovely). Some of the inappropriateness was G L O R I O U S.

Child Bride’s grandmother (not the one who used to own the Epicerie, the other one) wore a blue t-shirt with silver stars on it and capri jeans… a t-shirt and jeans to her great-grandchild’s christening in a Catholic Church (at least she didn’t wear the leopard print fedora she wore to Child Bride’s wedding). However, Child Bride’s other grandmother (the one who did use to own the Epicerie) was wearing a beautiful white pantsuit, but she failed to actually go into the church. She and her sisters sat outside the bar across the square having coffee during the ceremony. Color me aghast.

And then my favorite… Child Bride’s sixteen year old cousin walked into the church wearing a sheer black, strapless mini dress, with a neon green slip under it that matched her six inch neon green heels (that’s right… six inch). When I saw her I thought for a moment that I had been magically transported to either 1) a nightclub in Essex or 2) a Gypsy wedding. But no, I was in a Catholic Church and a sixteen year old girl had walked in like she was doing the walk of shame. Say it with me… G L O R I O U S.

Clearly, my pearls were wasted on the day.

But La Petite was too cute for words in her white Broderie Anglaise romper and little white Mary Janes. I just wanted to eat her up she was so cute, especially when she kept shouting; “NO NO NO” like a child possessed every time the priest tried to get near her, so naturally, I desperately wanted to shout, “Out Ye Devil!”. But I didn’t because that would have been inappropriate.

bisou

P.S. Thank you Sarah B. for capturing Brother-in-Law in all of his glory