The dress didn't matter

I'm a planner.

I like to plan ahead, and plan meticulously, especially if I'm nervous.

Which I was.

These were our engagement pictures, after all, and I knew (and Eric did not seem to understand) that these pictures would be the face of every single wedding thing we did up to our wedding day and that they would be plastered all over everything and I would have to look at them day in and day out.

Needless to say, I was definitely freaking out over the entire situation.

I hate being in front of the camera, and I take every picture and pick apart all my imperfections like my sudden double chin if I hit the wrong angle or my mis-shaped elbows from all the fractures I incurred as a wreckless, clumsy child or my awkwardly shaped knees that I ruined playing soccer. My teeth, my hair, nothing is safe from my scrutiny.

So I tortured Eric for weeks, dragging him to every store I could think of that might have the right outfit.

I eventually settled on a teal dress that matched the shirt we bought, and a floral print dress because, you know, that's just who I am.


The day of I was a complete mess. I felt terrible, hadn't slept, and had so much to do before the shoot.

While I was getting my nails done, Eric was instructed to get his outfits together and then we would get our hair done before the shoot.

When I got home, I was surprised to find that apparently we had not bought the teal shirt that I thought we had (although I SWEAR we did) and the situation exploded into a full-on Marvyl-break down.

We did not have matching outfits, and we had no alternatives! (You know, except for the 500 other dresses and outfits I own...#firstworldproblems) And I just lost it. To the point of almost cancelling.

But in his eternal patience and calmness, Eric talked me down from the fashion crisis ledge and we headed out in mis-matching outfits to the salon.


I felt better once my hair was done, because every time I leave Hair Peace I feel like I can take over the world.

Isn't it funny how hair can change your entire outlook on life? Not even the cut or color or style, just someone pampering you for an hour and telling you how awesome you are, and you come out with hair that looks like it belongs in a shampoo commercial and you just feel GREAT.


So I'd calmed down, but I was still nervous about the camera's focus being on my face, which conveniently was broken out and orange because I had the notion to attempt contouring with the first Sephora purchase in my life. It's definitely NOT as easy as they make it look on that paint-by-numbers card they sell you on.


But as soon as we got there, Joe and Kathleen made me feel perfectly comfortable.

In true Marvyl fashion, as soon as we started were in the train I was geeking out over the history of the car, and then a bird pooped in my hair. A bird. In a train car. POOPED in my hair.

Because, life and stuff.

At that point, I couldn't help but laugh because that's just how things roll in the Marvyl Hurricane.


I honestly couldn't believe how relaxed they made us feel, and how much fun it was. They really took their time and made sure we were enjoying ourselves, and that we felt like freaking models.

It was spectacular to see them work, and I laughed so hard the whole time.

It didn't hurt that I had Eric by my side, that goofball.


By the end of it, I'd forgotten all about the weeks of stress I felt leading up to it.


Because I knew that now I wouldn't just have a bunch of engagement pictures. I'd have a whole story, and a lifetime of memories from just a few hours.

Joe and Kathleen are true artists, and incredibly genuine and fun people.

They dealt with my crazy bride requests, and made a frightening experience so much fun.


AND THEN I GOT TO SEE ONE OF THE PICTURES.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?

WHO ARE THOSE PEOPLE?

IS THIS REAL LIFE?

*SOBS*

Words can't even fully explain how I felt when I saw this picture. I wanted to cry but I couldn't believe that this picture happened in real life. 

They are not photographers. They are straight up MAGICIANS. 

I actually got chills down my back when I saw this photograph, and I WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME. 

I can't stop looking at it and freaking out about the fact that I have MORE coming. 

This one picture would have been enough for me. 

Because HOLY. COW. 

That is art, people. That is a story in a photograph. 

When I saw this, I thought 1) I love that boy. Look at how cute my boy is. 2) LOOK AT THIS PICTURE OHMYGOD 3)Seriously though, my boy is handsome. 

And you know what I didn't think about?

That teal dress, and his mismatching suit. The bird poop. The rush to get ready. 

I just thought about how I love that boy, and I love this picture, and I love JOPHOTO. 

Because in the end, the dress didn't matter. 

In the end, it was who was beside me and the wonderful story that did. 

And I think that was an important lesson to learn before the big day. 

If you want to drool over more JOPHOTO you can find them here. 

Or you can obsess over their pins here.

You can follow my blog board on Pinterest and I'll add more pictures as they come! Follow Marvyl's board To Be Triscritti on Pinterest.